


I'm Waiting With (Or Without) You

by with_regrets (orphan_account)



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Complete, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Negative Thoughts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Someone is Trans But I'm Not Gonna Spoil Who, Temporary Amnesia, Violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-11-13 14:30:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/with_regrets
Summary: Jake wakes up in the hospital with little memory of his life and no memory of how he got there. His friends from the Nine-Nine try helping him adjust to his life and find out what led to his injuries in the first place. Will Jake get his memory back in time to solve an important case? Is Jake still in danger from the man who put him in the hospital? If only Jake could remember.Prompt: Peraltigo + Amnesia





	1. Wake Me Up (When It's All Over)

He was able to ignore the beeping when it first came across his awareness. Sleep seemed so precious to him, and he had the feeling of  _ safe _ and  _ protected _ keeping him warm. He wasn’t sure why that was so important, but it was. After a while though, the rhythmic beeping started annoying him too much to remain in his peaceful slumber.

 

Trying to open his eyes was a battle he didn’t see coming. Why were his eyelids so heavy? He felt his eyelashes fluttering uncontrollably as he tried to open them and heard a gasp that made him momentarily freeze.

 

“Amy, I think he’s waking up. Call the nurse,” he heard a husky, feminine voice demand. 

 

“Oh my god, he is?” A frantic, sweet voice replied that made his heart constrict for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

 

“Wait, I’ll get the nurse. You stay with him.” 

 

The first woman’s voice was carried away with the sound of retreating footsteps and he sensed the second girl shifting closer to him. A moment later his hand was being squeezed by warm, soft fingers. He felt a fresh wave of motivation surge in him and he renewed his efforts to open his eyes.

 

“Oh, Jake. You really are waking up. I’m right here, babe. You can do this.”

 

_ Babe _ ? Was this woman with the freakishly strong hands his girlfriend? His eyes twitched a centimeter open and bright lights flared across his vision before he quickly shut them again. He groaned on instinct, though it was barely loud enough for his own ears to catch.

 

“Lights! Damn, your eyes must be sensitive right now. Hold on a second.” The soft hands disappeared for a moment and he felt the briefest moment of panic before he heard a  _ click _ and felt the hands back on his own. 

 

“Is Mr. Peralta waking up?” This time the voice belonged to a man. Male nurse, cool. 

 

“Yeah, he opened his eyes for a second and immediately closed them. I think the light hurt his eyes so I turned off the one over his bed,” the nice woman reported.

 

“Sensitivity to light is common in patients who are coming out of a coma,” the nurse replied.

 

Coma? Had he been in a coma? He tried remembering the last few days, then it dawned on him that he couldn’t really really remember much of anything. Why couldn’t he remember anything?

 

“Nnnh!” Firm fingers opened his eyes and a bright light was shone into both of them.

 

“Was that really necessary?” Husky voice lady asked with an edge in her voice. She sounded scary, and he was infinitely glad that anger was not aimed at him. She sounded almost… protective. Maybe they were friends. 

 

“I needed to check his pupil response. He is most definitely conscious.”

 

“He is?” The nice lady asked with noticeable relief. “Jake, can you hear me?”

 

“Mmm,” he mumbled. 

 

“Can you squeeze my hand?”

 

He felt the nice lady’s death grip on his right hand and focused all his strength on it. His fingers twitched, but apparently, that was enough for her.

 

“I felt that! Nurse Lomeli, he squeezed back!” There was an adorable excitement in her voice - Amy was her name, if he remembered the tough girl talking with her earlier correctly - that he couldn’t help but love.

 

“Excellent. He might not be able to fully wake up yet, but be patient. Once his eyes open completely, let me know and I’ll be back to assess him.”

 

Psh, as if he wasn’t going to wake up in a minute. Nuh-uh, he was going to power through and open his eyes right now. He was going to count to three and he’d be able to see his significant other that, frankly, smelled  _ wonderful,  _ and his badass friend. 

 

One… two… 

 

* * *

 

Shit, he fell asleep. Now awake again, he couldn’t feel Amy’s hands on his anymore and it made his heart race with fear. He didn’t know why, but he  _ needed _ her. Maybe he even loved her. The thought was not as scary as he thought it would be, and he was suddenly positive. Yes, he loved Amy. 

 

“Crap, guys, look at his heart rate.” 

 

Was that a man speaking or a child? Jake felt a familiar fondness for this guy that was pushing him to believe it was actually a grown man speaking.

 

“Jake, don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m right here for you, buddy. No one cares about you more than I do.” 

 

The man’s voice was pleading and a little desperate. Yes, this was definitely familiar.

 

“What about Amy, Charles?” A dry and apathetic voice questioned. 

 

“Quiet, Gina, Jake needs to hear his best friend’s voice right now. Right, buddy?”

 

Jake wanted to laugh, he really liked this guy. He reminded him of a golden retriever.

 

“His heart rate is going back down,” a very masculine voice observed.

 

“Told you guys he needed my voice,” Charles sounded proud.

 

“Terrance, will you massage my temples?”

 

“Is Charles giving you a headache?”

 

“No, I just feel like a really deserve it.” 

 

A reluctant, masculine sigh from Terrance, “Okay.” 

 

These people were awesome. Jake was lucky to have them in his life. If only he could open his damn eyes. He was going to count to three and try again.

 

One… two…

 

* * *

 

Fuck. Jake blinked his eyes groggily. He fell asleep  _ again _ . How was he supposed to open his eyes if he kept falling asleep?

 

Oh my god. Was he blinking? Jake was blinking! He rubbed the blurriness out of his eyes and looked around. 

 

He was in a private room with all the lights off, but the light in the rest of the hospital was still on, so he could still see. Sleeping on the cot next to him was a woman he immediately identified as Amy. Jake realized he was smiling in what felt like the first time in his life. He didn’t want to disturb her sleep, but he instinctively knew she would want to know he was awake.

 

“Amy.” Damn was his throat scratchy! He must have been intubated at one point. He cleared his throat and tried again.

 

“Amy.”

 

Amy shot up in the cot so fast that Jake heard his monitor skip a beat. He wished he had enough upper body strength to lean forward and turn to look at its readings.

 

“Jake?” 

 

And oh, man. Man, oh man, oh man. Amy was  _ beautiful _ . 

 

She scrambled up and looked like she was about to pounce on him before stopping and thinking better of it. She was looking all over his body as if he were a fragile bird and it wasn’t until Jake looked down at himself that he realized why. 

 

Both his arms were wrapped in bandages, and there was not a single inch of exposed skin that wasn’t covered in cuts and bruises. 

 

And Jake realized for the first time that he hadn’t stopped to wonder why he was actually in the hospital in the first place. 


	2. Oh, Take Me Back (To the Start)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite getting a warning to not attempt to force back memories of his trauma, Jake cannot be deterred and ends up with more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **anxiety attack and medication TW**

It had been three days in the hospital so far, and Jake was _restless_. It didn’t help that all of his friends were at work. It was strange to feel so close to people he didn’t really know anything about, but he did know that he missed them. He hated to admit it, but even watching Die Hard wasn’t cheering him up because every few or so minutes he would hear an announcement over the PA and be reminded he was in the hospital.

 

Jake eyed the nightstand next to his hospital bed that held various Harry Potter books. When he was watching Die Hard he felt excitement, but looking at the books made him feel warmth. He knew it was because they reminded him of Amy, the woman he was confident he would have fallen in love with over the past three days had he not already been in love with her.

 

He picked up The Prisoner of Azkaban and began reading. He loved the way Sirius Black had appeared. A true drama queen with the best good guy plot twist, and dumbass-turned-valued-protector trope Jake could easily admire. It was also nice to read about how Ron and Hermione had their own styles of showing their friendship with Harry. They reminded Jake a lot of Charles and Hermione. Forced romance excluded, obviously.

 

“Knock knock,” came a voice Jake had developed a near Pavlovian response to. When he heard that voice, irritation immediately followed.

 

“Hey, Nurse Lomeli,” Jake threw his best let’s-be-friends grin at him. He was determined to win the guy over.

 

“I’m here to check your vitals.” Straight to the point, Jake tried not to sigh in disappointment too loudly.

 

“Okay. But before you do, I have a very serious question.” Nurse Lomeli straightened up at Jake’s tone and looked him steadily in the eyes.

 

“On a scale of one to ten - one being the best and ten being the worst - how likely is it that I will ever recover…”

 

Nurse Lomeli’s eyes softened with compassion.

 

“...From the horrible fashion blunder of wearing a gown in winter?”

 

Lomeli’s eyes hardened again.

 

“I mean, I know it’s a hospital gown and it’s policy, but still!”

 

“Uncross your legs while I take your blood pressure, Mr. Peralta.”

 

Jake uncrossed his legs.

 

“On a real note, do you think I’ll be discharged today? Amy’s been cleaning the entire apartment for when I get back. I get the feeling that she’s a neat freak anyway, but the sentiment is the same. She wants me home and I want to be home.”

 

“Don’t talk so much while I take your blood pressure.” Jake rolled his eyes.

 

“Seriously, man. Do you know?”

 

“That’s between you and your doctor.”

 

Jake went silent for a moment and closed his eyes for a beat, taking in a deep breath. He really hated the hospital. He hated that he couldn’t remember what his home looked like, but he knew that he missed it. And Jake didn’t like being constantly surrounded by people: staff, other patients, families coming to visit their loved ones. He felt overwhelmed and constantly on edge.

 

Lomeli paused fiddling with the vitals machine for a moment.

 

“Have any memories come back to you? About your life before the accident?”

 

He swiped a temporal thermometer across Jake’s forehead and glanced at the readings before looking back at Jake.

 

“Before, I didn’t remember anything or anyone. I just had feelings associated with people. I knew I loved Amy, but I couldn’t remember why. I knew I had a sense of duty, but I didn’t remember why either. But I felt that Amy was my best friend before the memories caught up with me, and I felt that I was a detective before those memories caught up, too.

 

“Now I’m getting flashes. I hear Amy laugh at one of my stupid jokes and suddenly it’s five years ago and she’s laughing at my celebratory dancing for catching a perp I’d been after for three months. She brushed my hair off of my forehead and suddenly it’s two years ago and she’s brushing cheeto crumbs out of my hair and asking me how the hell food got in my hair.

 

“I don’t remember everything, but I think I remember what matters. Amy has always been there for me, as a friend, a partner, and a wife. I know I love her, and I don’t want our lives to be on pause anymore.”

 

Jake thought that Lomeli looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t regret saying all of that about Amy. He loved her, and the world needed to know it.

 

“That’s uh, great and all. But I meant if you remembered anything about the events leading up to your amnesia, Mr. Peralta.”

 

“Oh.”

 

That explains the awkward tension.

 

“Captain Holt told me I was working on a drug-related case before I disappeared for two weeks and woke up here, but I honestly don’t remember any of it.”

 

“That’s not unusual for retrograde amnesia caused by trauma or stress. Considering the condition you were in when you stumbled in here, you had a lot of it. Sometimes the memories come back, sometimes they don’t. We’ll keep playing it by ear, how does that sound?”

 

Some compassion had crawled its way back into Lomeli’s voice, and the tension that Jake felt abated a bit.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“And it’s very important that you don’t try to force the memories to come back. Retrograde amnesia can be a kind of defense mechanism your brain puts up to deal with memories, thoughts, and emotions that it thinks you aren’t ready to handle. Let the memories come back at their own pace, understand?”

 

“Got it,” Jake shot finger guns at Lomeli as he walked out of the room. “No triggering the mean brain thoughts.”

 

* * *

 

“Give me the case files.”

 

Terry looked like he was about to scream with frustration, and Captain Holt was stoic, as usual, sitting in the visitor’s chair while Terry opted to stand.

 

“Come on, Serge! Please?”

 

“Jake, your medical staff specifically told us to not let you try and trigger the memories of your disappearance until your body has healed more.”

 

“Ugh!” Jake leaned back into his upright hospital bed.

 

“If I were any other victim, you’d be trying to get information about my attack so you could find the perp. This is discrimination against cops. You’re a cop-ist.”

 

Terry glared at Jake, but he refused to take it back.

 

“I’m not being a cop-ist. And you’re wrong. If you were any other victim, I wouldn’t want you to be triggering your memories because I would care about your health as a civilian as I care about your health now.”

 

“Why do you have to be such a good person? It wouldn’t be breaking the rules if you gave me permission.”

 

“I don’t give you permission.”

 

“Fine, then you leave me no choice but to go over your head.”

 

Jake through his most winning smile at Captain Holt.

 

“Capt-”

 

“No.”

 

“Copy that.”

 

The trio sat (and stood, respectively) in silence for all of ten seconds before Jake couldn’t take it anymore.

 

“I’m sorry for hounding you, Terry. It’s just that I don’t know when they’re gonna release me. I don’t know if they’re keeping me because of my physical injuries or because of the amnesia, but I really want to go home to Amy. I want my life back, and she’s my life. It’s not fair to her that she has to come out here to spend time with me. She’s spent every night on the hospital cot and all of her free time is here with me. She shouldn’t have to do that.”

 

Terry covered his face with one large hand and released a resigned sigh.

 

“Okay, fine, how about this: I don’t give you the case files. _But_ , we can go over the information you already know and if something happens to be triggered, it’ll be a happy accident?”

 

Jake was vibrating with excitement, and Holt had one eyebrow raised. Was that good or bad?

 

“Captain, what do you think?” Terry asked, and Jake held his breath.

 

“Well, you’re not technically breaking the rules. Jake is happy, the medical staff is happy. Yes, I think this is an acceptable course of action. Good suggestion, Terrance.”

 

“Yes! Okay, let’s begin.”

 

Jake settled back into his upright hospital bed, using all of his concentration to focus on the upcoming questions.

 

“What is the last thing you remember before waking up from your coma?”

 

Jake closed his eyes and tried to recall the voices he hear when he had apparently hobbled in.

 

_Bright lights. Too bright. Was that the sun? Moving people, so many people. Crying, screaming, pushing people in wheelchairs, following others on stretchers. Loud sirens. It was difficult to walk without losing his balance, but Jake was determined to make it to the ambulance bay._

 

“ _Help, help me. I need… please.”_

 

_Some man in a white short-sleeved was holding Jake upright as he began to feel his legs give out._

 

_“Sir, are you okay? Laurence, get me a wheelchair! Sir, can you tell me your name?”_

 

_An instant later, Jake was in the wheelchair. He must have lost consciousness for a few moments._

 

_“Sir? Your name?”_

 

_“Jake Peralta. I’m a detective with the 99th precinct. There was… I was taken.”_

 

_“Laurie, he’s a cop. Grab me the B.P. cuff. Jake, I’m gonna need you to open your eyes.”_

 

_Were they closed? He hadn’t realized. He managed to open them again and a bright light shone in his eyes._

 

_“Jake, can you tell me where you are?”_

 

_Oh, that’s easy._

 

_“The hospital.”_

 

_The man chuckled._

 

_“Which hospital, man. Or at least the name of the city. Do you know?”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_“That’s okay. Do you know what day it is?”_

 

_“It’s… 2019.”_

 

_A hair’s breadth of a pause, but enough for Jake to notice._

 

_“That’s right. Can you raise your arms for me?”_

 

_Jake closed his eyes again to concentrate._

 

_“Am I doing it?”_

 

_“You’re very close.”_

 

_Jake heard a muttered ‘eleven on the scale’ and then his wheelchair was being pushed._

 

_Entering the hospital was an assault on his senses. The light wasn’t as bright, but the ER was full of noise and Jake could sense bodies moving to and fro, making him feel tense and jumpy._

 

_“I’m gonna move you onto a bed now. Laurence! Three, two, one,” Jake was being lifted and his head swam at the change in elevation._

 

_“Jake, this is very important. Have you taken any drugs, medication, or consumed any alcohol in the past seventy-two hours?”_

 

_Drugs. Something about drugs was nagging at the back of his head. It was important, but it was starting to slip._

 

_“I don’t think so.”_

 

_“Have you had any major surgeries in the past two years?”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_“Do you feel any pain when I push on your abdomen?”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_Another concerning, short pause._

 

_“Jake, is there someone you would like for us to call to come to be with you?”_

 

_Yes, Amy. He needed Amy. Amy would know what to do, she would help him make sense of this. And he needed to tell her something important. Something about drugs, before he forgot._

 

_“Amy, my wife.”_

 

_“A CNA will come in a moment to get her number from you. This is really important, so focus for me, okay? Do you remember how you got your injuries?”_

 

_Yes, but I don’t want to. Please don’t make me remember._

 

_“I was taken.”_

 

_No, no, no. He needed Amy. Amy would know what to say._

 

_“What happened while you were taken, Jake?”_

 

_The sympathy in the voice was not right. This man was not Amy. He needed Amy._

 

_“Jake?”_

 

_His eyes were opened and the light was in his eyes again._

 

_“We’re losing him!”_

 

_I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to remember._

 

_“Jake? Jake?”_

 

“Jake!”

 

His eyes flew open, and Terry and Holt were in front of him. He was shaking, covered in sweat. He could hear his heart monitor going crazy, and he felt like he was going crazy.

 

“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea,” Terry said as nurses came rushing in.

 

“What happened?” Lomeli demanded as he raced to Jake’s side.

 

“Take a deep breath.”

 

“We believe Jake began recalling the events that brought him here, and it appears that it triggered an anxiety attack,” Holt responded, eyes not losing contact with Jake with concern.

 

“Take a deep breath, Mr. Peralta.” Then turning to the nurse at his side, “I’m gonna need some benzo.”

 

Then Jake couldn’t make out the voices anymore, but he felt his bed being leveled, a prick in his arm, and the room started going from blurry to dark.

 

No, please! No drugs! He felt so exposed. But Terry and Holt would protect him, surely. That was the only thought that comforted him as the last thing he heard was his own soft gasping before his brain became consumed by fog.


	3. (I Love) The Way You Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As more difficult feelings begin to complicate Jake's life, he struggles with honesty and accepting his circumstances.

Jake had been given the news about being discharged half an hour ago and he was  _ stressed _ . Sure, he was originally excited. In a few, short hours he would be back home with the love of his life and back to his dream job, away from the confines of the sickly green hospital walls. The problem wasn’t whether or not he wanted to go home, but what would happen once he was there.

 

What if Jake never got the memories of his kidnapping back? Was he still a target? Would the precinct become a target? Or Amy? At least in the hospital he had an excuse for not having some of his memories: he was still recovering. But being discharged was like the doctors were saying that Jake should be back to normal. And if he was still not able to perform, then it wouldn’t be the hospital’s fault - it would be his own. 

 

He knew he was being hard on himself, but he couldn’t help it. And yes, he’d had some cases that went cold that he’d had to work toward getting over, but this was different. Jake had had harder cases, even more frightening cases. He had never had such a personal case, though. 

 

Jake was a good cop. Even on his worst days, he knew that. He knew all about stranger danger and had fantastic intuition, regardless of the level of common sense. Which meant that someone had lulled him into a false sense of security and subdued a New York cop. What if it happened again? What if Jake couldn’t trust himself anymore? He’d have to live his entire life on edge, looking over his shoulder. That was no way to live, and no way to be lived with. The precinct deserved better. Amy deserved better.

 

“Mr. Peralta?” 

 

Jake opened his eyes and realized he had hunched in on himself and was grasping his hair. He was a ball of tension radiating distress.

 

“Hey, Nurse Lomeli. Vitals again? My arm missed you.” The joke sounded flat to even his own ears, but Jake never dealt with discomfort without a healthy dose of humor.

 

“No, I came to check on you. You seem like you’re, for a lack of a better term, freaking out.” 

 

Jake wanted to smile, but he knew that Lomeli wasn’t intentionally being funny, and he didn’t want to insult the guy.

 

“Are you getting flashbacks about your disappearance?”

 

Now Jake wanted to wince.

 

“I wish. You know, I’d rather be anxious about dealing with the memories of whatever made my body look like it jumped into a blackberry bush than have the anxiety of not knowing what happened at all. It feels like someone gave me a slow-release grenade without the pin and I’ve misplaced it. Now I’m trying to find it before it destroys everything around me. I don’t know, I’m probably not making any sense.”

 

Lomeli looked thoughtful for a moment, then squared his jaw as if accepting something.

 

“I was in a car accident.”

 

“Oh my god, are you okay? You need a doctor! Wait, we’re in the hospital. There’re doctors everywhere! Do you need me to call one for you?”

 

Lomeli actually  _ rolled his eyes _ .

 

“Not today, Mr. Peralta, calm down. Five years ago. I couldn’t remember the accident, but I was left pretty banged up. Broken clavicle, dislocated ribs, shattered femur, concussion - the works. I had to take a lot of vicodin during my recovery, and I hated that I couldn’t even remember why. I had anterograde amnesia. Different from your kind. I kept forgetting where I was and why I was there, and I never actually ended up remembering the entire day leading up to the accident.

 

“Anyway, I ended up taking Vicodin without being able to remember why, and by the time I was able to retain my memories I had developed a dependence on it. I ended up addicted to it for a long time. It took me forever to get through that. A lot of NA. A lot of relapsing and recovering and relapsing and recovering.”

 

“Shit, I guess working in a hospital didn’t make that any easier for you, huh?”

 

Lomei gave a sardonic smile.

 

“No, it didn’t, Mr. Peralta. Eventually, with the help of therapy - both physical and cognitive-behavioral - I made an important realization. I had PTSD. And popping pills was my way of trying to self-medicate. It took me a long time to realize that my addiction wasn’t something stupid, it was a symptom of something larger. Something I wasn’t getting help for that I needed to learn to deal with.

 

“I don’t want to make any assumptions about you, Mr. Peralta, but I think the anxiety attacks you’ve been getting might also be a symptom of something larger that you need to deal with. Something you don’t need to be ashamed about. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

 

“Yeah,” Jake’s throat was constricted. God, was he really fighting back tears? “I do.”

 

Lomeli looked relieved.

 

“Good. I’ll have a CNA come over in a minute to give you some resources you might be interested in. There’s no pressure, of course. It couldn’t hurt to give them some consideration, though.”

 

“Thanks, man.” 

 

“No problem. I’ll, um, give you a minute now. I’ll come back for vitals in an hour.”

 

Lomeli closed the door behind him, leaving Jake to mull over their conversation. PTSD. Wow. He never considered he could be traumatized over something he couldn’t even remember, but the way Nurse Lomeli had phrased it made it sound sensible. He smiled to himself then, thinking about how generous it was of Lomeli to show his softer side. It looks like the tough-as-nails nurse might actually be warming up to him. 

 

* * *

 

“Welcome home, babe.”

 

Amy was  _ buzzing _ with excitement. She unlocked the door to their apartment and swung it wide so Jake could see. 

 

Food.  _ Everywhere _ .

 

Pizza, burgers, Chinese, you name it. Sodas, juices, beer, wine. And snacks! Donuts, chips, fries, chicken nuggets, candy. It was an absolute dream.

 

“Ames, I know we're married but can I please propose to you again?” 

 

Amy blushed but looked pleased with herself.

 

“I figured you were tired of a week and a half’s worth of hospital food. I know I’m usually on your case about eating fruits and vegetables, drinking water, exercising, sleeping enough, and God Jake, I still can’t believe you don’t wear your glasses when you work on your reports because your eyes get so  _ strained _ and you get  _ headaches _ and I’ve told you a  _ million _ times-”

 

“I love it when you ramble, but you’re sidetracking, babe.”

 

“Shit, sorry. I just mean that today can kind of be a cheat day for us. A celebration that you’re home. Speaking of celebrations, the squad wanted us to go to the bar in honor of you being released-”

 

Jake felt a surge of anxiety swell in him that he couldn’t identify the origins of.

 

“-but I told them that we were gonna lie low for a few days. Get used to you being home, adjust to old patterns and all that. Is that okay?”

 

A breath he wasn’t aware he was holding was released and he took a step forward to plant a gentle kiss on Amy’s lips. 

 

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect. Thank you. I’m gonna go put the clothes I used in the hospital to wash, then I’ll join you on the couch.”

 

Amy’s face glowed with affection, and she went to the living room where some of the food was laid out on the coffee table. 

 

“Do you want to watch Die Hard while we eat?” Amy asked when he came back while reaching for a slice of pizza. The biggest sign of love was probably that she ordered all of this food instead of trying to cook. She really did care about him.

 

“Nah, you’re the only thing I want to pay attention to right now.” 

 

“Aww, babe. That’s so gross.” 

 

Jake laughed and grabbed a random box of Chinese takeout. He chewed his food carefully and tried to swallow the lump of guilt in his throat along with the Kung Pao Chicken. If he was being honest with himself, Jake really didn’t want to watch a movie where the cop takes the lead and is expected to fix everything, but he didn’t want to worry Amy by explaining that. 

 

At the very least, he didn’t want to have a serious conversation and bring in a heavier mood so soon after getting home. First, he would take some time to enjoy being reunited with his wife. Later he could talk with Amy about what he was going through. When the time was right. 

 

After downing half of the food Amy had brought and placing the other half in the fridge, Jake felt satisfied in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He pulled his arms up, stretching out his back and yawning. 

 

“I’m gonna hit the shower. I missed good water pressure so badly. Please don’t wash any dishes, I don’t water to freeze to death.”

 

“Don’t worry Jake, I’ll leave the dishes for you to wash,” Amy winked at him and Jake cradled his chest as if she’d shot him in the heart, earning him a bright laugh as a reward.

 

Undressing, Jake turned on the faucet, twisting the knob for hot water generously before stepping in. 

 

_ This _ feeling.  _ This _ was the highlight of his day. Just being able to relax, unwind, and have the warm water trickle down his skin. Huh? Warm? Didn’t he twist the hot knob more than the cold? Oh no, Jake felt the water start to go from warm to cold very, very quickly and he did  _ not _ like it. 

 

He turned the cold knob off completely and opened up the hot knob more to no avail. Why was the water coming out freezing? 

 

Wait. The laundry. Did he put his clothes on the hot cycle or the cold cycle? Shit, shit, shit. It was probably the hot cycle. 

 

Just when he decided to give up on his shower, Jake felt a chill in his spine that had nothing to do with the water. 

 

_ “Maybe if we leave you alone like this for a few hours, you’ll be willing to talk. How does that sound?” _

 

_ “Oh, we gotta tough guy, huh? Let’s see how quiet you are in the morning after spending the night cold and wet without any clothes. Two hours from now and it’ll feel like the little bones in your hands and feet are breaking. Three hours from now and you’ll be so cold it’ll feel like you’re drowning. And pray to God you don’t stop shivering. Then you really gotta worry.” _

 

_ “Screw you.” _

 

_ Laughter. Another bucket full of ice water being dumped on him. He tenses against the ropes keeping him bound to the steel chair. _

 

_ “Okay! I take it back!” _

 

_ “Ah, the wise guy is smartening up.” _

 

_ “I didn’t mean to say that. I meant to say fuck you!”  _

 

_ Jake’s head was being pulled back by his hair, and a rag was placed on his face. This time, the water was being poured slowly into the rag.  _

 

_ No amount of coughing or sputtering made a difference. Jake was dying. He was drowning in one centimeter of water. That was definitely not on his top ten coolest ways to die list. To die list. To die. Die. Die die die die die die die. _

 

_ One gasp. They had stopped waterboarding him. The room was empty. Had he blacked out? It seemed like it. And true to word, he was naked. Naked, wet, and freezing. And his sinuses hurt like hell. This was gonna be a long night. But no matter how long it was, he would not - could not - give up his informant. He’d die first.  _

 

_ A shiver went down Jake’s spine. He might actually die. _

 

A pounding at the door that sounded a bit frantic.

 

“Jake? Are you okay?” 

 

Snapping out of it, Jake realized he was standing directly in the freezing spray while zoning out. He shut it off quickly and reached for a towel. Shit, he was shivering.

 

“Yeah, babe. I was just enjoying my first shower out of the hospital. Sorry to worry you.”

 

“No worries,” she sounded unsure, and Jake was worried she would ask him what happened and he would have to relive the new flashback he experienced. “I served you some ice-cream.”

 

“Thanks Ames, you’re the best. Be right out.” 

 

Jake wrapped himself in two towels in hopes of getting the shivering under control.

 

Then Jake realized he wasn’t shivering. He was trembling. 

 

Okay, don’t panic. Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic. Take a deep breath. You are okay. You are safe. You are in your apartment bathroom. Your name is Jake Peralta. You are married to Amy Santiago. You are a detective at the 99th precinct. Today is February 12th. You are standing on tile floor. Feel the hard material on your feet. Wiggle your toes. Good, see? Your toes are attached to your feet, which are attached to your legs, attached to your torso, attached to your neck, attached to your head. You are in control. You are in control.

 

Jake took a deep breath. He’d had anxiety before, but he had never had to talk himself down from an anxiety attack before. He didn’t know whether to be worried about or proud of himself. He could think about that later. He didn’t want to leave Amy waiting any longer, she was already starting to get concerned.

 

Drying off his hair and putting on some shea butter cream Gina got him for Christmas, Jake redressed and went back out to the couch where Amy was waiting for him. She greeted him with a smile and concerned tilt of the head. 

 

“That felt great, I can’t wait to shower again tomorrow. Is it possible to form an addiction to being clean?” 

 

The worry in Amy’s eyes broke and she rolled her eyes, knowing how messy Jake actually was.

 

A stone formed in his stomach as he laughed at her incredulity. He recalled his stay in the penitentiary and how he would lie to Amy to keep her from worrying about his safety. But Jake told himself that this was different. This time, he was actually safe. So there was no reason to unnecessarily worry Amy.

 

_ Unless you’re not safe _ , a little voice in his head whispered. 

 

That was a ridiculous thought. Jake had been in the hospital for almost two weeks, and it had been on the news. If his kidnappers wanted to hurt him, they knew where he was. Surely they would have made a move against him by now. 

 

_ Unless you were too much in the public eye. Not to mention the policemen stationed at your door. _

 

_ Not helping, Voice, _ Jake thought back. 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Jake? You look pretty deep in thought.”

 

“Sorry, I just got a brain freeze.” He kissed her forehead to get rid of her worried thoughts.

 

“Jake, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

 

He looked into her eyes. They were so full of love and acceptance. But concern and fear were there, too. And it was his job to make sure she never had to feel that.

 

“You’re right, Amy. There is something I need to tell you that’s been bothering me.”

 

Amy slipped both her hands into Jake’s.

 

“You can tell me.”

 

Jake took a deep breath.

 

“I don’t think I’m ready to go back to work yet. I know I told you at the hospital I was eager to get back to my life, but I think I need a week or two for my body to heal up and adjust to being back in the real world. I just didn’t want to worry you into thinking I’m regressing or something.”

 

“Oh, baby, no! I don’t think that’s regressing. I think you’re really strong for opening up and being honest about how you feel. I’m so proud of you. And of course the squad would understand. Just leave it to me. I’ll talk to Holt and he’ll have no problem with you continuing your progress at home. And if he does I’ll just tell him… ‘go suck it.’”

 

Jake laughed at that highly improbable scenario.

 

“Thanks, Ames. You’re the best.”

 

“No worries, babe. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. I’m gonna go get ready for bed now. I’m really wiped out from all the discharge paperwork and insurance stuff.” 

 

“Want me to join you?”

 

“No, that’s fine. Finish your ice-cream.”

 

A brief kiss and Jake padded to the bedroom and shut the door. He sat on the bed for a while, hands pressed against his eyes. He didn’t lie to Amy, necessarily. But he also knew he wasn’t honest with her. 

 

Regardless, he would use this week to sort through what he was going through and fix it. Maybe he’d take a glance at the pamphlets the CNA had given him. Anything to keep from going through another anxiety attack. Everything was gonna be okay. Jake would have this under control soon, and as long as it was all under control, he had no need to worry Amy unnecessarily about his feelings regarding the trauma. Everything would work itself out. They had to.

 

Right?


	4. (Nobody Said) It Was Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy knows more than she lets on about Jake's condition and Rosa sheds some light on the events that got him abducted.

~ Six Weeks Ago ~

 

“Jake, I’ve got a case for you,” Terry said as he walked into the bullpen, interrupting Jake and Rosa guessing people’s ages based solely on their haircuts.

 

“Is it cool? Please tell me it’s cool,” Jake begged playfully.

 

“I don’t know if it’s cool, but it is dangerous.”

 

“Yes! That means it’s cool. Let me guess, there’s an underground street racing competition going on at midnight tonight you want me to break up. Plot twist: they only race motorcycles. Don’t worry Terry, I’ve got my own bike. Wait, if I say that then the precinct won’t provide me with a cool, trekked-out bike. Scratch that, I need a motorcycle.” 

 

Jake stared expectantly at Terry, and Rosa wanted to grin at the confused and pained expression on Terry’s face.

 

“Sorry, Jake. There’s no motorcycling. There’s an increase in opioids hitting the streets and none of my sources have been able to find a supplier.”

 

Jake waved his arm in a no-worries gesture.

 

“That’s okay. Drugs are still cool. I mean - ah, you know what I mean.”

 

Rosa nodded once in understanding.

 

“I want in, I haven’t done tackled something large-scale in a while,” she declared.

 

“Great, you and Jake keep me updated. Here’s the information I’ve been able to gather so far,” Terry handed a thin case file to Rosa, “It’s not much. Basically, it’s a list of drugs we’ve found being sold within the same vicinity and some people who’ve been hospitalized for overdosing.”

 

“We got this, serge. Rosa and I will start interviewing the patients once we read this. Ready Rosa?”

 

“Ready.” 

 

~ Present Day ~

 

Jake was not a clean person. Sure, he showered and did his laundry. Maybe the better word was  _ neat _ . Jake was not a neat person. So, when Amy woke up at four in the morning to the sounds of the dishes being washed, it took her a minute of staring at him from the kitchen entryway before she was able to fully process what it was she was seeing.

 

“Ja-”

 

“AHHHH!”

 

“-ke.”

 

Jake had thrown the cup he was rinsing in the air from surprise and quickly darted his arm out to catch it before it could shatter in the sink. 

 

“Jesus, Ames, you gave me a heart attack.”

 

Normally, Amy can’t sneak up on Jake. Not for surprise kisses, not on Halloween Heist Day, not ever. His sixth sense was too good, and it always slightly worried her that he always had his guard up.

 

But this was so much worse. Seeing Jake white as a sheet was not a good feeling. Clearly, he had been lost in thought. He reached for a dish towel to dry his hands, but Amy had good intuition, too. She knew he was trying to hide his trembling hands. It reminded her of when he got out of the shower last night and lied to her about being okay. 

 

“I’m sorry, babe. Are you okay?”

 

He nodded and gave her that watery smile that looked more like a grimace, which meant he wasn’t telling her the truth. 

 

“I woke up and you weren’t there. Why are you washing dishes?” She wanted to take a step toward him, but instinct told her he would take a step back if she did. And she didn’t think either of them would handle that very well. 

 

“Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to give you a nice surprise to wake up to?”

 

He looked at her with such hope and such resignation, it made her soften and break just a little bit. She tilted her head to the side and gave him a soft smile.

 

“Oh, babe,” she answered softly. “You know I wouldn’t.” 

 

Jake nodded to himself, leaning back to support his weight against the sink and crossing his arms. 

 

“But I’d respect your decision to not open up right away if you’re not comfortable.” 

 

He was silent. Uncharacteristically silent. He was assessing her, and he had never needed to do that before. His shoulders released their tension and she knew he was tired with whatever train of thought he was pursuing.

 

“Let’s go to bed.” 

 

He reached his hand out for her, and Amy took it.

 

“It’s way past your bedtime anyway.”

 

“You’re the one who decided to go Mr. Clean on me!”

 

“First of all, I will never have the raw sexual energy that Mr. Clean has. Second of all-”

 

“Oh god, never say that Mr. Clean has sexual energy ever again.”

 

“You’re right, Mr. Clean is above that. He’s clearly an asexual aromantic. And he probably lives alone with Sphynx cats because they don’t have dander.”

 

“What about the litter box?”

 

They had reached the bedroom and it was as if they had left all the tense questions and avoided answers in the kitchen in exchange for this easy banter.

 

“Clearly he would train it to use the toilet.”

 

“Clearly.” 

 

It was patchwork. They were putting a bandaid on a broken wrist and Amy knew that eventually, the real issue would need to be dealt with. 

 

For now, this was enough. They could pretend things were okay for the first night out of the hospital. She didn’t want to scare him with an interrogation about his feelings and involuntarily push him away. But she also knew that she wouldn’t let him stay in his own bubble forever. They were a team, and she wouldn’t leave him behind.

 

As she settled into bed, she could feel Jake’s brain whirring. She couldn’t judge him, her gears were in motion, as well. She only wished that whatever was going inside his head wasn’t treating him too badly. She pushed herself up a bit and gave him a kiss on the forehead. 

 

Jake opened his eyes and smiled at her. 

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, babe.”

 

* * *

 

_ Knock knock knock _ .

 

Jake opened his eyes groggily. He had only been asleep for, what? Fifteen minutes? He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

 

**9:37am.**

 

What the heck? That was a lot longer than fifteen minutes. He groaned and turned over onto his back to find Rosa standing next to his bed, staring at him.

 

They looked at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. Jake broke first.

 

“Hey, Rosa.” He tried a friendly smile. She was downright terrifying sometimes.

 

“I let myself in.”

 

“I noticed.” He didn’t bother asking how. He wasn’t even surprised. 

 

“We need to talk.” 

 

“About what?”

 

“The case that got you kidnapped.” 

 

Oh. The exhaustion left Jake in an instant. In its place were coldness and a cramped stomach. He slowly sat up and leaned against his headboard.

 

“I’ll make coffee.”

 

“ _ I’ll _ make coffee. You suck at it.”

 

Jake nodded, conceding the point. His hands felt numb, anyway.

 

She closed the door behind her, giving Jake privacy. He closed his eyes for a minute, steadying his breathing. 

 

“My name is Jake Peralta. I am a detective with the 99th precinct. I am in the bedroom of my apartment. Today is February 13th. I can feel the wood of my nightstand underneath my fingers. I can feel the weight of the blankets on my legs. I feel the end of the headboard underneath my neck and the cement wall behind my head. I can smell coffee being made. I am okay. I can wiggle my toes. I can flex my legs. I am in control. I am in control.” 

 

Jake opened his eyes and took in one more breath before swinging his legs off the bed and getting up. He went to the bathroom connected to the bedroom and brushed his teeth. He thought about shaving, but the thought of looking at himself in the mirror made him feel weird, so he decided not to leave Rosa waiting any longer and went off to the kitchen.

 

He found her sitting at the table sipping her coffee with another cup for him on the table. Jake didn’t bother asking how she prepared it. She’d known everything about him since the academy, she knew how he took his coffee. The reminder that Rosa had his back for so long made him smile to himself. Rosa picked up on his thoughts and gave him a small smile back.

 

_ Thank you for letting me approach you _ , his smile said. 

 

_ Thank you for not being afraid to approach me _ , said hers. 

 

He took his seat and mentally braced himself for however this conversation would play out. 

 

“Amy told us you were taking a leave of absence from work.” 

 

There was a question somewhere in there, but Jake didn’t know where.

 

“She said you’re waiting until you finish recuperating.” 

 

The question was coming, he could feel it. 

 

“We both know that’s a lie.”

 

Any second now.

 

“You’ve been avoiding this case.”

 

He felt his jaw tense reflexively and knew Rosa noticed.

 

“I want to know one thing, and I need you to know that you cannot lie to me. Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Damn, his voice was tight.

 

“Do I need to find a new partner?” 

 

Her tone was no-bullshit solid. But there was an undercurrent of worry. Jake looked at her in the eyes and suddenly he couldn’t see her very clearly. He looked away and blinked back the tears that were forming. 

 

“Rosa, I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t right now.”

 

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong.” Her voice was insistent, and Jake almost wanted to believe her.

 

“Serge told me to ask Charles to join the case after your anxiety attack in the hospital, but I told him I wouldn’t until I knew if you were okay with it.”

 

“I’m okay. Just…” 

 

Jake trailed off and closed his eyes for a second.

 

“Just be careful. Please.” 

 

Rosa looked at him intently, and Jake knew she was remembering how he looked with all of his bruises, cuts, burns, and bindings. 

 

“Do you remember anything?”

 

Jake pursed his lips and looked down at his coffee.

 

“Some. Nothing useful. Sorry.”

 

“Stop apologizing. Not a single thing that happened is your fault, Jake. It’s mine.

 

Jake looked back to her in confusion.

 

“I should have had your back.” 

 

“What? No, you didn’t get me kidnapped.”

 

“Jake, listen. No one wants to tell you about the case because it’s still active and you’re recovering. But there’s something you should know.” 

 

Rosa gritted her teeth, steeling herself.

 

“It was my fault you got kidnapped.”

 

Ice. That’s what Jake felt. Ice slowly pouring down his body. No, that’s not what happened. Rosa was a good cop. More than that, she was a good  _ friend _ . She would never let that happen.

 

“There was an informant. Someone was willing to talk. His name is Patricio Salvador. We visited him in the hospital and you told him you could get him set up with witness protection if he gave us the code names of the distributors.”

 

“He didn’t want to tell us in the hospital. He thought he was being watched.” Jake started to remember a bit.

 

“Yes, exactly.”

 

“I don’t remember what happened after?”

 

“What happened after was he slipped into a coma. But Vicodin doesn’t do that. We think that he was poisoned by the food he ordered. The distributors got to him. So we relocated him to a different hospital under a pseudonym. Do you remember what it was?”

“Mario Rivera.”

 

“Mario Rivera,” Rosa confirmed with a soft smile. 

 

“So we’re waiting for Pat to wake up - which he hasn’t yet, so far - when his brother, Paulo,  comes to the station. He’s demanding to see his brother. But there was something off about him. He was so jumpy and angry to the point where we could tell he was actually afraid.”

 

“We thought he was being forced to find Pat’s location by the distributors so they could finish the job.”

 

“So we decided to tail him.”

 

“We decided to tail him,” Jake remembered.

 

“We gave him a fake location and a fake name. We told him Pat was staying the Greyson apartments. I told you we should split up. I said that I would wait at the apartment to see who shows up with Paulo, and you said that you would stake out the entrance to see get the information on the car that follows Paulo.”

 

Rosa leaned forward.

 

“But something went wrong. I was waiting in the apartment and no one was showing up. You come in through the walkies and tell me Paulo was arguing with a taxi driver. I told you to get close and try to listen in. And that’s when you stopped responding. I was so  _ stupid _ . You weren’t even in civvies!” 

 

Tears were coming out of Rosa’s eyes now and Jake found it easy to reach out and grab her hands. For some reason, he didn’t feel as broken anymore. Maybe seeing that he wasn’t the only one going through a hard time made the burden a little bit lighter.

 

“Rosa. Rosa, listen to me.”

 

Through red-rimmed eyes she looked at him, and he felt his heart ache for his friend, his partner.

 

“This was not your fault. You are a good cop. We’ve split up a million times. We’ve pulled dangerous stunts a million times. We’ve gotten too close a million times. There was no reason to think this time would be any different. This was  _ not _ your fault. It was whoever took me that’s in the wrong, not you.”

 

“I’m gonna get those bastards, Jake. I swear.” 

 

Jake smiled at his friend. 

 

“I know, Rosa. I believe in you.”

 

A more serious look came upon her face then, making Jake’s stomach turn.

 

“And I believe in you.”

 

It had a different meaning, what Rosa was saying. They needed support of different kinds. They both stood up, with different beasts awaiting them. 

 

“Go kick ass,” Jake instructed Rosa.

 

“You know I will. You, too.”

 

They hugged, and Rosa left back to work. 

 

Jake looked back in the direction of the restroom and decided to prepare himself for a new undertaking. He walked toward the restroom and grabbed his razor. For the first time in one month, Jake would look at himself in the mirror. 


	5. I Will Try (To Fix You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a plot-centric chapter, but we do see how Jake is coping and take a step forward in the direction. Here's a bit of fluff and angst for you guys!

He needed to take deep breaths. Standing at the entrance of the hospital was giving him flashbacks of the last time he had to come in. Jake took a deep breath, nodded to himself, and stepped in. Despite the too-bright lights, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic, the sight of mothers reassuring their ill children, and the sounds of frantic beeping and coughing, Jake made it to the check-in desk with minimal fidgeting.

 

“You need to fill out this form. Can I see your ID?” The nurse at the desk asked Jake.

 

“Uh, sure. I’m actually not here to check in though. I was a former patient of Nurse Lomeli’s and he has some information I need.”

 

The nurse--Nurse Xeng, as her name tag indicated--gave him an assessing look. She grabbed her phone and pushed three buttons without breaking eye contact with him. 

 

“What’s your name, dear?”

 

“Peralta. Jake Peralta.”

 

“ _ This is Yi. Is Ramone there? _ ” Nurse Xeng spoke into the phone. “ _ Hey Ramone, there’s a Jake Peralta here to see you. He says there’s some information you have for him. Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks. _ He’s at the nurse’s station in the south wing of the emergency unit. The doors are unlocked, go through and make a right.” 

 

Relief mixed with anxiety at seeing Lomeli again. Relief that Lomeli agreed to see him on this completely unexpected visit, and anxiety over what he wanted to talk to him about.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome, dear.” 

 

Jake went through the doors and headed off toward E-South. He passed by his old room and remembered all the bandages and braces he had to wear while in there. He hadn’t had so much binding since he was pre-transition in high school. 

 

“Peralta.” Nurse Lomeli greeted from the nurse’s station as Jake came into view.

 

“Lomeli,” Jake greeted with a huge grin. He couldn’t help it, the stone-faced nurse reminded him so much of the captain that he automatically liked the guy. 

 

“This is an unexpected surprise. Nurse Xeng told me there’s some information you needed? Is this about the investigation or insurance information?”

 

“Um, neither.”

 

Lomeli nodded, but a look of confusion settled on his features.

 

“Listen, is there somewhere private we could talk?” 

 

“Sure, room 15 is unoccupied. Follow me.” 

 

He followed his former nurse and couldn’t help but wish they were going back to his old room. Room 15 would be virtually identical to his previous room, but it wasn’t exactly the same. Jake wanted to derive some kind of comfort from the familiar setting. 

 

They entered the room and Lomeli closed the thick door behind them. Jake looked around the room for a moment, and when he looked back to the nurse he noticed him staring at Jake's hands. Looking down, he realized that he had been unconsciously rubbing his wrists. He immediately stopped the self-soothing gesture and cleared his throat. 

 

“So, how’s the hospital?” Jack tried padding the conversation between them a bit before they got to the subject that needed to be spoken.

 

“Diseased. What did you need to talk about?” 

 

Okay, so that wasn’t going to work.

 

“I decided not to go to work yet. At first, I thought it was because-”

 

“What do you mean you decided? That’s not your choice, you need to get cleared and your doctor hasn’t cleared you yet.”

 

Oh. That was news to Jake. But upon hearing, it made sense. He wondered if when Amy spoke to Captain Holt he informed her of this as well. He must have. But why hadn’t she mentioned anything yet? Maybe she didn’t want to stress him out. They really were a match made in heaven.

 

“How do I get cleared?”

 

“I don’t know the details of it, but you need to set up a meeting with your doctor for him to assess you and determine whether you are physically able to return to your work. He might refer you to a psychiatrist to make sure you’re mentally able, as well.” 

 

“Oh, wow.” 

 

Jake sat down on one of the two beds in the room. He’d had to speak to psychiatrists before, of course. When he was younger and his parents were getting a divorce the court mandated that he go to therapy for a while. And, later on, after witnessing traumatic events at work his team would sometimes need to speak to a specialist to make sure they hadn’t been too badly affected.

 

Somehow this was different. This wasn’t the product of things happening around him, this was the product of something happening  _ to _ him. That made it all a little bit scarier. A little bit more real.

 

“Jake?”

 

Jake opened his eyes, not having realized they were closed in the first place.

 

“Sorry. Actually, a psychiatrist is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you remember when you had the CNA give me information about, uh, getting help?” 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to say  _ going to therapy. _ Not yet. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Well, the information was kind of just talking about how good it is for you. It didn’t really give any concrete information about actual places I could go to. I remember you telling me about getting help for your PTSD. I was wondering if you could connect me somewhere like that? If it’s not too much of a bother.”

 

Lomeli looked down at Jake’s hopeful eyes and sheepish smile. He suddenly felt uncomfortable standing above him and decided to sit next to him on the bed. He felt his body loosen a bit at being on an even foothold with the detective. 

 

He was reluctant to admit it, but Lomeli had respect for cops that bordered on fear. His former patient’s ability to bounce back from trauma and injury only furthered his intimidation of the man. Not that he would  _ ever _ admit that to the man.

 

“Of course. The kind of therapy I went to was group therapy. And before you say anything, it’s not what you think. There’s strict confidentiality and no one judges you. Sometimes you aren’t ready to talk about something that happened to you, but hearing other people speak about their own fears and situations helps just as much as talking about your own would. It really helped me. Do you think you could give that a try?”

 

Jake considered it for a moment, then nodded.

 

“That’s wonderful. I’m really proud of you, Peralta. I’ll get into contact with your insurance to see if you’re covered for the same place I went to and get back to you. I don’t anticipate that there’ll be a problem, though. Cops usually have pretty good coverage. I’m gonna give you my card so you can call me if you have any questions.”

 

Lomeli reached for one of the huge pockets in his scrubs and took out a card to pass to Jake, who immediately inspected it.

 

“Ramone Lomeli…  _ physical therapist _ ?” 

 

The nurse simply chuckled.

 

“I have a life outside of the hospital, you know. Technically, it’s still in the hospital, but you know what I mean.”

 

Jake laughed, feeling a bit lighter after pushing through the heavy subject.

 

“Thanks, man. For everything. I really mean it.”

 

“I’m glad I could help.”

 

The men stood up and shook hands before parting ways. 

 

* * *

 

Amy heard the TV when she came home from work. She could tell Jake was asleep because he didn’t greet her with his usual “Hey, babe” when she walked through the door. She went into the kitchen and set her bag down on the counter. Looking around, she took note of how spotless the kitchen was.

 

The floor was swept and mopped, the stove was scrubbed, the dished were put away, even the refrigerator was sparkling. She didn’t doubt the rest of the house was in a similar state. No wonder Jake was asleep, he must have been exhausted after all that housework.

 

Amy leaned her back against the counter. She couldn’t figure out if this was Jake’s way of coping emotionally, or if he was just trying to stay busy now that he was on sabbatical. She pushed herself off the counter and went to the couch where Jake was snoring away on.

 

She smiled to herself at the sight of him looking so at ease. It was a look he wasn’t sporting lately. Everything was forced jokes and staring off into the distance. She didn’t blame him, but her heart hurt for him. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

 

“Mfh?” He stirred. He popped one eye open and rewarded Amy with a lazy smile. “Welcome home, babe,” he slurred.

 

“Hey, Jake. Want me to make us some sandwiches?” 

 

“Mhp!” He excitedly exclaimed into a pillow. 

 

Amy laughed breathily, not wanting to be too loud just yet.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Potato chips?”

 

“Hmf!”

 

“No problem, babe. Give me five minutes.”

 

Amy headed back to the kitchen and got out the materials she needed. Jake looked different. Instinct was telling her that something had changed, but she didn’t know what. All she knew was that it was good.

 

A few minutes later a groggy Jake stepped into the kitchen as she set the plates down on the breakfast bar. 

 

“Thanks, Ames.”

 

“You can thank me by pretending you like it.”

 

Jake grinned at her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

 

“Of course I’ll pretend to like it, you’re my wife.”

 

“You’re the sweetest. Like a lemon.”

 

Jake laughed and sat down. After a while of quiet eating, Amy noticed he had left his food half eaten and was staring off into space again.

 

“Is the food really that bad?” Amy joked.

 

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I’m just thinking.”

 

“I know. What are you thinking about?”

 

“I made a decision today. I decided that I’m gonna go to therapy. Do you think that’s okay?”

 

“Do I think that’s okay?”

 

Amy was floored. After two days of Jake ignoring his symptoms and lying about being okay--after two weeks of that, actually, he wanted to talk about what was going on?

 

“Jake, that’s more than okay. That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you. I’ll support you no matter what. Tell me what you need, and I’ll make sure you have it. I think this is the right choice, and I’m here for you.”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

He had that faraway look in his eyes again.

 

Before Amy realized she had feelings for Jake, she used to spend a lot of time observing him when they partnered up. She loved his brain, watching him work, trying to see what he saw. It was incredible. Jake was truly a brilliant cop. 

 

But sometimes she noticed he would get a certain look. Jake would get different looks. There was a sparkle in his eye when he had a hunch. There was a shine in his eye when the hunch was confirmed. There was a determination in them when he was stuck. But there was a certain look that Amy could never figure out. A faraway look.

 

Amy had different theories about what that look meant. It was a look that came whenever he was about to make a difficult choice when something was about to change. Hope? Dismay? Certainty? Fear? She was never sure. But seeing that face again now, off of the streets, she knew what it was for the first time in her life and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t ever pieced it together before. It was a look that had nothing to do with any of the victims, with any of the criminals, or even anything to do with her. Acceptance. It was the look of acceptance. 

 

“How about I put the rest of our food away and we get ready for bed? I know you barely woke up from a nap, but you still look pretty tired.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I would use more than thirty minutes on the sofa. Thanks for dinner, Ames.”

 

He headed off to the bedroom while Amy cleaned up. She heard the pipes groan as the faucet for the bath turned on. Since when did Jake take baths instead of showers? 

 

A vision of Jake pale and shaking getting out of the shower the night before flashed in Amy’s mind and the question answered itself. She shuddered as her brain gave her theories as to why the shower might be a trigger for her husband now. 

 

She put the leftover food away, slightly worried. 

 

By the time Jake came out of the bathroom, the kitchen was sparkling again and Amy was reading  _ The Silmarillion _ in bed. She didn’t mention how he had decided to put his clothes on in the bathroom instead of the bedroom, the way he usually did. She didn’t mention how he was pale again. She didn’t mention that his hands were shaking as he put the clothes he had worn in the laundry basket. She didn’t mention how he was avoiding eye contact again. Her head was full of things she didn’t mention.

 

She wondered if his was, too. 

 

He climbed into bed and gave her a courtesy smile. 

 

“Jake-”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“But-”

 

“Please.” 

 

Jake’s voice cracked and his eyes were glassy. 

 

“I love you.” That’s not what she wanted to say, but she said it anyway.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

Jake pulled out a  _ Calvin & Hobbes _ comic collection book Terry had gotten him and started reading it. 

 

They stayed in silence for a while, long after she had stopped reading. Amy wondered how in the world Jake was still awake, and when she stole a glance at him she noticed how dark the bags under his eyes were. He was forcing himself to not sleep.

 

“Jake, can you turn the lamp off? I think it’s not letting me sleep,” she lied.

 

“Sure, Ames. Sorry about that.”

 

She heard a  _ click _ and hoped that the darkness would help pull her husband into sleep. They both settled into sleeping positions, Amy being the usual big spoon to Jake’s little spoon. She pretended not to notice how his back tensed when she put her arm around him.

 

After a few minutes, he relaxed into her touch.

 

It couldn’t have been more than an hour of unconsciousness before Amy was pulled from her sleep. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but something felt wrong.

 

She sat up and squinted at Jake in the darkness. He wasn’t shaking, and he was breathing okay. He wasn’t making any noise. Why did she wake up? She turned the light on and that’s when she saw it. Tears were coming out of his eyes. 

 

Immediately she started rubbing slow circles on his back.

 

“Hey now,” she murmured at him. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Shh, shh. We’re okay. We’re safe. You’re okay, Jake.”

 

He never woke up, as far as Amy would tell. At least, he never opened his eyes. But the tears stopped rolling and his breaths came a little slower, a little deeper. 

 

She couldn’t help but think back to two months ago and all the memories that came with that.

 

Jake laughing. 

 

Jake joking.

 

Jake confident.

 

Jake  _ safe _ . 

 

And so she decided to make a promise. No matter what happened with the case, with work, with his health, Amy would keep Jake safe. She wouldn’t let him go through any more pain. Amy Santiago would do whatever it took to help her husband get through the storm, and no amount of crazy criminals or kidnappers could steal their future together away. Jake would have his peace of mind again, even if Amy needed to apprehend every criminal in the city before she found them to do it.


	6. There Will Be An Answer (Let it Be)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem a little slow. Basically, Jake starts group therapy and is in treatment with someone unexpected. I'm trying to flesh out the more quiet side of Jake's symptoms and set the groundwork for all of his memories resurfacing (which will start happening soon). I hope you guys enjoy this!

~ One Week Later ~

 

_ Sunny Skies Hospital _

 

Jake stared out of the squad car window, looking at the closed gates. He felt a hand on his shoulder and released the tension he didn’t know he had.

 

“I can walk you to the gates, babe.”

 

He shook his head, turning it to smile at Amy.

 

“I’ll only be gone for an hour. Besides, the cool kids won’t accept me into their group if they see you holding my hand.”

 

Amy rolled her eyes despite the grin she wore.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t know being seen with your wife meant you were a loser.”

 

“Oh, you’re not the problem. The problem is they’re gonna see me with you and immediately like you so much more than me.”

 

Jake was rewarded with the sound of his wife’s laughter, and he felt his anxiety dissipate somewhat.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them you’re part of my entourage and they’ll let you in our group.”

 

“I love it when you talk French to me.”

 

Amy struggled to hold back a mixed look of cringe and pity, which Jake absolutely loved. He knew what  _ entourage _ meant, he just loved getting a rise out of her. 

 

“So you’re for sure going it alone?”

 

“ _ Yippee-ki-yay, _ Ames _. _ ” 

 

And with that, he kissed Amy and got out of the squad car. As he walked to the gates, he avoided the temptation to look back. He didn’t want to see worry on her face, for one, and he also suspected it might make him walk right back to her and ask her to take him home.

 

He beeped the intercom, triggering the unlocking of the gates. Out of a building titled “Nurse’s Station” came a brunette middle-aged woman with a wide smile.

 

“Hello! You must be Jake.”

 

Jake rubbed at his wrist a bit nervously and offered a hand to shake.

 

“Yeah, and you’re Maira, right? You’re the one I spoke on the phone with a few days ago.”

 

“I sure am!”

 

The woman’s enthusiasm was contagious, and he felt a bit more at ease because of it.

 

“Did you have tour and intake already?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

Yesterday Jake had come with Amy while they toured the grounds. There were seven different therapy rooms, a cafeteria, a nurse’s station, a gym, and various offices. The most nerve-wracking part was the intake, though.

 

For about an hour, he had to give information about his past traumas, symptoms of any mental health issues he could be dealing with, levels of stress that came with his job, and a lot of insurance information. It was exhausting, but the nurse, a portly Dominican woman named Sonya, was very sweet and helped the time go by a bit more quickly. 

 

“Let’s get you your name tag, then. You’ll have to turn in your phone every visit out of respect to the other patients’ privacy. Group starts in five minutes. Do you know who your group leader is?”

 

“Duke, I think his name was?”

 

Maira led him to a table next to the cafeteria doors where Sonya was already standing. A few people were signing in on a sheet and turning their phones in.

 

“Hey, Jake! How are you?”

 

“Hey, Sonya. I’m good, thank you.”

 

“Do you know what room you’re going to?”

 

“He has Duke,” Maira answered for him. “So he’ll be in room four.”

 

“Ooh, Duke. You’ll love him, he’s so sweet,” Sonya reassured.

 

“Are you ready to go? Any questions?” Maria asked.

 

“I think I’m ready. Thanks, ladies!” 

 

“Bye, Jake!”

 

“Have fun!”

 

He walked up to room four, gave himself a little nod, and opened the door. The room was half full of people of different ages. Taking a seat, he looked over the room and his eyes stopped on one man out of surprise. Was that  _ Kevin _ ? Oh, God. Kevin was looking right back at him.  _ Play it cool, Jake. Play it cool _ .

 

Jake made a peace sign at him.

 

_ Not that cool, Jake! Not that cool! _

 

Kevin tilted his head in acknowledgment with an almost amused smile. How was this even possible? He was going to therapy with his boss’s husband? Well, if Kevin was okay with it, then he would give it a try, too. 

 

“Hey, you must be Jake.” A voice interrupted his train of thought. 

 

To his left sat a huge, muscular African American man with a bald head and a full beard. His name tag read “Duke”.

 

“Hey, man.” 

 

Duke took a seat next to Jake, but he still toward over him. He was like a giant teddy bear, making Jake immediately feel a sense of comfort and safety. 

 

“I know you already got the low-down, so I’ll just explain some basics. We meet for three hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I know some sensitive information comes with your work, so rest assured that we keep everything in strict confidence--unless you explicitly state that there is a danger to a minor, an elderly person, or you want to hurt others or yourself. Do you plan on hurting someone, Jake?”

 

Duke looked at him so seriously that his eyes widened in panic. No! He didn’t want to hurt anyone! Did he think that he was violent because he was a cop?

 

Then Duke’s face broke into a smile and he let out a deep belly laugh.

 

“I’m just messing with you. We like to break the ice here, but please let us know if we make you uncomfortable in any way.”

 

The knots that had formed in Jake’s stomach undid themselves and he leaned back into his seat, feeling a new sense of belonging. It was admittedly a good mini-prank. 

 

“So the first forty-five minutes we usually work on tools and topics. So, that can be a range of subjects from how to set boundaries to recognizing unhealthy coping skills. The second forty-five minutes we talk about feelings and thoughts that brought up or further discuss the subject if anyone has questions. The last forty-five minutes are processing. So, if anyone has something they want to talk about and get feedback on, or vent, that’s when we do it. You don’t have to process if you don’t want to, but we encourage you to speak up if there’s something on your mind. This is a safe space and there are no stupid feelings. Any questions?”

 

Jake’s palms were a bit clammy. This was all starting to feel so real. He saw a few more people trickle in and taking their seats. They all talked to each other like they were long-time friends. He wondered if he would be here long enough to make connections like that. 

 

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” 

 

“No problem. We’re on the last hour now, so it’s time for processing and then you can stay for lunch or go home. Your choice, no pressure. And don’t worry, I won’t pick on the new guy by sitting next to him the first time.” 

 

Duke winked at him and moved across the circle of chairs to sit on the opposite side of the room. Jake really liked this guy. 

 

“Okay, guys,” Duke got everyone’s attention. He had this magical ability to be soft-spoken and still be magnetic enough for everyone to hone in on him.

 

“It’s time for processing. I know we didn’t have time to get to Kevin last time so he’ll go first. And I know Margot and Azim wanted to go, as well. Kevin?”

 

Jake instantly felt itchy. Was it wrong to hear something that his own captain wasn’t even privy to? What if Kevin didn’t feel comfortable now that Jake had joined the group? He felt a wave of anxiety wash over him fueled by guilt and had to start subtly taking deep breaths.

 

Kevin’s eyes flickered to him momentarily from across the room. It seemed that Kevin needed a breath, as well. 

 

“I’ll get right into it,” he began. “I got another threat in the mail this week.”

 

Jake’s itchiness went away, replaced by surprise and worry. Why would anyone send Kevin a threat? Other than the fact that he was gay and in an interracial relationship. And married to a police chief. And the fact that they were both politically active. Yeah, okay, he could see why Kevin would get sent threats.

 

“It was by the same man, he sent it with his signature Ken Doll--or, as he likes to call it, his  _ Kevin _ Doll. This time its legs were missing. The note read: ‘You can’t run away from me forever’. I wanted to get rid of it before Ray saw it, like I did last time, but he found it when he was organizing the trash.”

 

_ Captain Holt organizes his trash? Of course he does. Wrong thing to be focusing on right now _ , Jake thought to himself.

 

An older woman, her name tag read “Dot P.” spoke up.

 

“How did he react?”

 

“Oh!” Kevin quietly exclaimed in a “you-don’t-even-want-to-know” voice. “You know my Raymond, he can be so irrational and so easily swayed by his emotions.” 

 

Jake couldn’t believe his ears. Holt? Irrational? Swayed by his emotions? He wanted to laugh, but that didn’t seem wise.

 

“He wanted me to take a leave of absence from the university. Absolutely absurd.”

 

“Why is that absurd?” Duke asked. 

 

Kevin sighed a long-suffering breath.

 

“I can’t simply give up being a professor. Give up being head of classics.”

 

“No one says you have to give it up forever. Why would taking a break be so difficult for you?”

 

The whole room was looking at Kevin, who was looking at Duke.

 

“I was terrified. When Raymond and I started dating, I was terrified. Growing up in the eighties, being who we were, was not easy. I was terrified when my house was trashed because of my sexuality. I was terrified when Ray got the most dangerous jobs as work because of his race. I was terrified that he would get shot and killed, or worse at work. I was terrified he would get shot and killed, or worse on a normal day because of how society sees people like him. I was terrified one of us wouldn’t make it to the day our marriage would be legalized. I was terrified every day of my life.

 

“But Raymond? Raymond was brave every day of my life. He was a rock. He didn’t let our fears hold us back. He fought discrimination, fought homophobia, fought unfair practices from his superiors and never took a break. I might have let the fear eat me alive if it weren’t for him. He was passionate about his work, his activism, his right to love me. He didn’t let it be taken away from him. Now it’s my turn to be the brave one. I’m passionate about my work, and I’m not going to let it be taken away from me.”

 

Wow. Kevin was a badass. Jake already knew that his boss was, but Kevin was seriously a badass. 

 

Duke leaned forward in his chair to close some distance between him and Kevin.

 

“You said you and Raymond argued about you hiding the last doll. Did you tell him that you hid it?”

 

Kevin shook his head.

 

“No. Raymond figured it out. I received 1961, 1977, and the doll I hid was the 1993 edition. When Ray found the 2010 doll, he knew that there was one missing and realized I hid it from him. He was… not pleased.”

 

“What did he tell you?” Dot asked. 

 

“He said that couples shouldn’t keep secrets from each other, especially when they’re this important.”

 

Kevin paused to rub his eyes. His situation clearly weighing on him.

 

“I don’t like lying to Raymond. But I feel like I’m protecting him from unnecessary worry. I don’t want him to treat me like I need to be sheltered, or think that I’m going to break at any moment. I want to be able to go to work without seeing concern in his eyes. I want him to go to work without being afraid of leaving me without his watchful eye. I’m tired of fear being a member of our household. I thought keeping the third doll hidden would change that.”

 

“Did it?” Jake couldn’t help but ask. 

 

All the eyes in the room turned to Jake, then back at Kevin to hear his answer. Kevin looked at Jake, as if judging the sincerity of his question, then relaxed a bit and began his response.

 

“At first, I thought it did. But I kept worrying that something bad would happen to one of us and Raymond wouldn’t know why because he didn’t have all of the information. And every time he smiled or seemed unconcerned I felt like I was lying to him because I had knowledge of something that would change that. 

 

“In the end, it was near maddening for me. I could feel all this space between us caused by all the things I was leaving unsaid and Raymond had no idea where the space was coming from. It made our relationship a little more strained, and I hated that. It wasn’t worth it.”

 

_ It wasn’t worth it _ . Jake didn’t know why, but those words settled in his stomach like an anchor on a chip. Heavy and unrelenting. 

 

“Thank you for sharing, Kevin. Does anyone have any feedback or support for him?” Duke asked.

 

Hands shot in the air and someone began talking. But Jake wasn’t paying attention anymore. The faces were starting to blur and everything in his field of vision blended in with each other. He didn’t know if a man or a woman was speaking, or if anyone was speaking at all. In fact, Jake wasn’t aware of anything. He was somewhere else.

 

* * *

 

“How did you like your first day?”

 

The words made Jake’s mind feel like an arrow--pulling him from his thoughts so quickly that he can’t make out the details of how he found himself back in the therapy room. He was offline one moment, and the next he was back. 

 

Group was over, and Duke was sitting next to Jake in a roomful of empty chairs. 

 

_ When did that happen? _

 

“It was really good. Yeah, I liked it a lot,” Jake improvised.

 

Duke’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

 

“Jake, I know you got lost in your head five minutes into group.”

 

Jake deflated and he scratched the back of his head, searching for an explanation.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why-”

 

“You don’t need to apologize. You can’t exactly control what your brain does. You might not be ready to be fully present in therapy just yet and that’s okay. You’ll get there. I’m more concerned with the why. Were you triggered by something Kevin said?”

 

“No no no, it’s not like that. I just…” Jake let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Explaining things was so hard. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again.

 

“I just heard something that struck a chord and I didn’t realize I was checking out until I was back in my own body. I guess my brain still isn’t working quite right yet.”

 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Your brain is only trying to protect you.”

 

“It has a funny way of doing that.”

 

The men smiled at each other, then stood up to make their way out of the room. 

 

“Thanks for the session, anyway.” 

 

“No problem, Jake. I hope to see you on Thursday.”

 

“I’ll be here.” 

 

Jake went back to Sonya to turn his name tag in and get his phone. Walking back to the gates, he thought about Amy waiting for him in the car.

 

_ It wasn’t worth it _ . 

 

Was there a new space between them that was made of all the words Jake wasn’t saying?

 

_ It wasn’t worth it _ .

 

Could Amy feel a new strain in their relationship?

 

_ It wasn’t worth it _ .

 

Jake reached the car and hopped in. Amy was smiling, but clearly anxious for information.

 

“How did it go, babe?”

 

“It was really nice,” Jake instinctively replied. 

 

Why was his instinct to cover up the truth? It didn’t use to be that way.

 

_ It wasn’t worth it _ .

 

Amy kissed him and pulled the car into drive to take them back home.

 

“I’m glad. Time to go to  _ nuestra casa _ .” 

 

“ _ Hogar dulce hogar _ ,” Jake echoed. 

 

He looked out the window as his mind slowly retreated back to the place where he went to in therapy. The place where time has no meaning and there’s nothing good nor bad. Just blank space. And one phrase echoed around his head while he didn’t notice Amy throwing him worried looks every few blocks.

  
_ It wasn’t worth it _ .


	7. Always Something There (To Remind Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake makes a difficult decision and has some support along the way.

~ Saturday, February 23 ~

 

“Let’s go over this one more time,” Rosa said over her third cup of coffee in the interrogation room. 

 

She was reluctant to bring Jake there, but he insisted that it would be where they could have the most privacy and she eventually agreed. They had been discussing at length the circumstances of his kidnapping, trying to find any clue as to the perpetrators of the crime.

 

Jake groaned with exhaustion.

 

“We’ve been over this a thousand times already.” 

 

“And we’ll go over it again”

 

Jake sighed in resignation and went through the story he had repeated so many times, he had grown numb to.

 

“Patricio Salvador was an informant. He overdosed on Vicodin and visited him in the hospital. You told him you could get him in Witness if he gave us the code names of the distributors. But he slipped into a coma, which wasn’t a side effect of the Vicodin; he was probably poisoned by the food delivery he got. Which means the distributors must have gotten to him. So we relocated him and gave him a new identity. Mario Rivera.

 

“While we’re waiting for Pat to wake up, his brother, Paulo, comes to the station. But something was off about him, and we thought he was being forced blackmailed by the distributors for the location so they could finish the hit on Pat. So we tailed Paulo.

 

“We lied and gave him a fake location and a fake name. We told him Pat was staying in the Greyson apartments. You went to wait at the apartment to see who shows up with Paulo, and I covered the entrance to see get the information on the car that followed him. But no one showing up at the apartment. I apparently saw Paulo was arguing with a taxi driver, and from there no one heard from me.”

 

Rosa sat across from Jake and was seemingly deep in thought.

 

“Again.”

 

Jake flung his arms up in the air.

 

“Rosa! I’m not going to repeat this another hundred times. We’re getting nowhere.”

 

She gave him a hard look, but eventually, her countenance broke into one acknowledgment and sympathy. 

 

“I’m sorry. I swear I’m not trying to torture you. I just-”

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

 

“I feel like we’re missing something. Something obvious. And I’m hoping that if we go after that afternoon enough times, we’ll pick up on some key detail we missed.”

 

Jake hid a pained expression. This whole thing was his fault. If he wasn’t so afraid of his own memories, maybe the repressed experiences he had gone through would resurface. It was his own damn fault that this case was going nowhere. 

 

He was stupid enough to get caught as a cop, now he was being too much of a coward to be a reliable witness to his own case.

 

“I’m sorry. If there was some way I could remember, I promise you that I would try-”

 

_ Oh. My. God. _

 

“-Holy shit.” 

 

Jake was looking off into the distance, his face illuminated with the glow of realization.

 

“What? What is it?” Rosa asked, more than a little concern written across her features.

 

“I’m so stupid, the answer was in front of me the whole time!”

 

Rosa’s expression opened up a bit with hope.

 

“Did you remember a clue that can help us get the cartel?”

 

Jake shook his head, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

 

“No, but I know how we can get those details.”

 

“How?

 

“We trigger me again.”

 

All the emotion drained from Rosa’s face, giving her the look of Medusa. Jake almost felt himself turning to stone under her burning eyes.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

 

It wasn’t a question. Jake felt his eagerness start to shrink.

 

“Rosa, listen-”

 

“Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me, Jake? After what happened in the hospital? You had an anxiety attack when Serge tried ‘helping’ you remember.” The word “helping” dripped with sarcasm.

 

“Okay, but listen. This time will be different.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Last time I had no memories at all. I had nothing to go off of. But now I remember more! I remember some of what happened when I was taken, I remember going to the hospital, I remember getting stripped and waterboarded…”

 

Rosa flinched at the candid way he stated that.

 

“There are memories I can jump off of now. Plus, I just started therapy two days ago. I’ve had more time to process what happened to me. Last time I was at the beginning of my hospital stay. It’s been three weeks since then! I can handle it now. I promise. Please, let me try this. I want to get these guys so bad.”

 

Rosa leaned forward, the pinnacle of stubbornness and no-bullshit.

 

“Listen. I messed up before and you got hurt. I’m not gonna let that happen again.”

 

Jake’s shoulders dropped at her words. He wasn’t the only one struggling with guilt.

 

“Rosa, I did not get kidnapped because of you. But I can find out who did this with your help. What do you say--one thousand push-ups?”

 

Rosa looked taken aback at their old phrase. They hadn’t used their special code for “trust me” in a long time. He must really mean this, must really want it. The coiling tension drained out of her in one fell swoop and she deflated into her chair.

 

“Okay. One thousand push-ups.”

 

“NOOOOO!”

 

The partners jumped up at the sound of the yelling. Terry was in the room looking positively mortified.

 

“Hell no! Jake, I can’t let you do this!” 

 

Terry was so worked up, his chest was puffed up and his buttons were straining hard against his shirt. 

 

“Serge, I get that it seems like a bad decision, but we can’t stop him,” Rosa stated. “It’s his memories, we can’t hold them hostage just because we’re scared of the consequences they’re gonna have.”

 

Jake looked at Rosa with a mixed feeling of gratitude and relief. Terry paused, seemingly considering her words.

 

“But Jake, if we do this, I won’t know how to help if the memories start coming back.”

 

His demeanor was pleading with Jake to understand the concern his friend had for him. 

 

“Okay, Terry, how about this? We wait one week, and during that week I’ll talk to my therapist about coping skills. I know one week isn’t enough time to be able to completely safeguard against an anxiety attack, but it’s better than nothing and I don’t want too much time to pass before we get answers on this case.”

 

Rosa and Terry gave each other a look, processing Jake’s request.

 

“Okay, that sounds fair. 

 

“Thank you. Alright then. Next Saturday I’ll meet you guys back here.”   
  


Terry reluctantly nodded.

 

“Next Saturday.”

 

Jake left the station paused outside of the building. He took his phone out and placed a call he really hoped would be answered.

 

_ Ring. _

 

_ Ring. _

 

_ Ring. _

 

“Hello?”

 

“Lomeli? This is Jake. Sorry about catching you out of the blue. By any chance, are you busy right now?

 

* * *

 

“Thanks for meeting me.”

 

Lomeli took a seat at the table Jake was sitting at in Shaw’s Bar nursing a beer. He ordered one for himself, as well. 

 

“No problem. To be honest, I was kind of expecting your call.   
  


“Oh my God, you’re psychic.” Jake’s eyes widened. “I  _ knew _ there was something sketchy about you--no offense.” 

 

Lomeli chuckled. 

 

“No, I’m not psychic. That would make my job too easy.” 

 

“Oh. That’s disappointing.”

 

“I’m sorry about that. What I meant was, you started group, right?”

 

Jake nodded.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I figured that since I was the one you turned you on to it, you’d be giving me a call to tell me about how it went.

 

“I still think you’re psychic,” Jake mumbled to himself, causing Lomeli to grin.

 

“You’re right, I did have my first day of group. It was nice and everything, but I didn’t really feel any different once I got out.”

 

“Yeah, you don’t really notice any major changes immediately. It takes a while to work through problems and learn how to use the coping skills they teach you.”

 

“When you say  _ a while _ …” Jake trailed.

 

Lomeli raised a brow in question.

 

“Does a week sound like a good while to you?”

 

He rolled his eyes at Jake.

 

“Oh, Peralta. Always wanting to rush the process. Is this in any way related to your case?”

 

Jake sighed.

 

“I can’t answer questions about the case, sorry.”

 

Lomeli pursed his lips, trying to think of a way to get answers without Jake having to cross any work boundaries. 

 

“Okay. Answer me this: is there going to be a situation that arises that’s gonna cause you some anxiety you would otherwise be able to avoid?”

 

Jake caught his drift, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

 

“You could say that.”

 

“And I assume you’re worried about how you deal with the stressors?”

 

Jake muttered something about Lomeli being a psychic and he took that as confirmation.

 

“Is there something specific you’re worried about that you  _ can _ tell me about?”

 

Jake considered the question for a moment, and he flashed back to the shower incident when he felt like the world was crushing him. What was that story Amy told him about once? The god, or Titan, or deity of some sort? Atlas! Yeah, that was it. He felt like Atlas.

 

“I guess I’m worried about my responsibility.”

 

Lomeli gave him a quizzical look, and Jake took that as a cue to further explain.

 

“It feels like the things that trigger me are things that I need to be able to deal with. And when I can’t deal with them, I feel like a failure.”

 

“Who says you need to deal with them alone?” Lomeli asked gently.

 

Jake hummed in agreement.

 

“I don’t know why, but when I get these moments of anxiety, it feels like I can’t reach out to anyone. It seems like if anyone sees me, it’s gonna be the end of the world. I feel so open and vulnerable. If anyone sees me like that, it feels like I’m gonna get hurt. I get so panicky, and I don’t want anyone to see me.”

 

Lomeli forward, giving Jake his full attention.

 

“I’m not a therapist, but that sounds like some leftover survival instinct from the time you were… gone. You need to remind your body that you’re safe.”

 

“I try to, really. But even when I know that nothing is going to happen to me, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’m about to get hurt, or like Amy is going to hate me, or that I’m never gonna get rid of the anxiety and I’ll have to live like that for the rest of myself.”

 

Jake’s breathing was starting to come a little fast and his hands were trembling. He started rubbing his wrist methodically while his eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

 

“Peralta,” Lomeli’s voice was firm and commanding. “You’re hyperventilating. Look at me. Look. At. Me.”

 

Jake’s wide eyes looked up to meet Lomeli’s.

 

“Focus on me. Take one slow breath in through your nose.”

 

He followed this order with air shakily slithering into his lungs.

 

“Now slowly release it from your mouth.”

 

Small puffs of air escaped from his parted lips, all while looking at Lomeli.

 

“Again.”

 

Jake repeated the process until his breathing was smooth and his hands were still.

 

“Good job.”

 

“Sorry about that,” Jake sounded embarrassed.

 

“You don’t need to apologize. Your thoughts ran away from you for a bit. It happens.”

 

“I know,” Jake sighed. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid. This… thing… that’s coming up in a week. I need to be able to keep my head cool for it.”

 

“It sounds like what you need is some grounding skills.”

 

“Grounding skills,” Jake repeated. “Yeah, that’s something I could look into.”

 

Jake took a long swig of his beer and Lomeli followed suit.

 

“Look, Jake, I get it. With anxiety and panic attacks it feels like the world is crashing in around you. Especially in the beginning. But it does get better. Honest. Just please,  _ please _ , don’t rush this. Facing your fears when they come naturally is one this, actively looking for them is another.” 

 

Jake ran his fingers through his hair in a bit of a self-soothing gesture.

 

“I agree with you. I do. But this isn’t just about me. There are people who are depending on me. I don’t want to let anybody down. Right now, I’m what’s standing in the way of a case being solved that could help so many people. And if I can’t access what’s in my own brain, then I’m a liability. That doesn’t sit well with me. I can’t just do nothing.”

 

Lomeli gave him a tight smile.

 

“I should know better than to tell a cop not to interrogate himself.”

 

Jake’s shoulders dropped in relief that someone understood his reasoning.

 

“For a psychic, you really should know better.”

 

Lomeli laughed and clinked his beer bottle to Jake’s. He pulled a five out of his wallet and set it on the table.

 

“No, you don’t have to-”

 

“I got this,” Lomeli said. “Just… can I offer you some advice?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Be careful. You really have no idea what you’re walking into. And whatever you find out, try not to be too hard on yourself.”

 

Jake gave a slow nod.

 

“Thanks, Peralta.”

 

“No, man. Thank you for meeting me. And for being so supportive.”

 

“Yeah, well, it’s the least I could do.”

 

“And if you ever want to hang out when, you know, I’m not in a crisis, that would be cool, too.”

 

Lomei smiled at Jake as they stood up to leave.

 

“I’ll see you around, Peralta.”

 

With that, the men parted ways, and Jake was left with the feeling that something really important had happened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be one of the biggest plot-wise, and it will hopefully be worth all the suspense that has been building! I'll catch you guys next Saturday, have a nice weekend!


	8. Just Too Close (To Love You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... beware of smut! I don't want to spoil what happens there, just know that it's not all fun and games. Jake also learns a technique that will help him during his anxiety. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

~ Saturday, February 23, 2019 ~

 

Amy was supportive of Jake’s decision to re-trigger himself. At least, it seemed that way. She nodded along, smiled, touched his hand with hers. Everything seemed fine. But Jake’s intuition was telling him that she wasn’t as okay with it as he seemed. 

 

That’s how Jake talked himself into treating Amy to her every desire, both spoken and unspoken. She had been so strong for him, all he wanted was to give her something back. 

 

Amy looked a little tired? Jake made steaks for dinner. Amy was referencing Harry Potter a little more than usual? Jake puts on Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone after dinner. Amy is rubbing her feet during the movie? Jake grabs her legs and gives her a massage instead. 

 

And it’s great, honestly. Amy is happy and that makes Jake happy. The movie was over, so Jake turned on the classical channel on TV while he kept going on the massage on the couch in the living room. He had finished her calves and started moving up to her thighs while she let out content little hums. 

 

“You have  _ really _ strong legs, babe,” Jake told her, clearly impressed.

 

He dug his thumb into what he assumed was her hamstring (Jake was not the best with human anatomy) and was rewarded with a little flex in her thigh. He decided that’s where she had the most tension and dig deeper. After a few minutes, he could feel her muscles slightly trembling under his ministrations. Concerned that he might be hurting her, he looked up to check her expression.

 

It was not one of pain.

 

Amy’s complexion was flushed and she was biting her lip. Sensing that she was being stared at, she opened her eyes to meet Jake’s. Her eyes were glassy and her pupils were  _ absolutely _ blown. Jake reflexively squeezed his hands, which were encircling Amy’s thigh.

 

Her eyelashes fluttered.

 

“Oh!” she breathed. 

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Jake softly realized. 

 

He moved his right hand a little higher and used his left hand to gently widen the distance between her thighs. Amy spread them as much as she could on the couch. Jake used the nail of his thumb to gently stroke up the apex of her legs and her hips jutted upward as she gasped.

 

Though Jake was previously sitting underneath both her legs, he decided to move onto a kneeling position between her legs facing her. He kept rubbing her through the outside of her pants like a teenaged boy who had no idea what he was doing. Except Jake wasn’t a teenager anymore and he knew exactly what he was doing. He was teasing was his wife.

 

He slowing inched his way to the lining of her sweats and slipped his hands beneath them, but over her underwear. Since there was less fabric between them, she felt his fingers more acutely.

 

Jake leaned forward until his torso was pressed against hers. He pressed their foreheads together and put his mouth a centimeter away from hers. She parted her lips to accept his kiss, but instead of kissing her, Jake whispered.

 

“You like that?”

 

Her hips bucked under his words.

 

“ _ More _ ,” she moaned at him. 

 

This time he did kiss her, mouth open and commanding. She could feel his smile before it turned into something more consuming. 

 

He grabbed the spot just underneath her ribcage and squeezed. Amy arched her chest up in elation. She loved it when he squeezed her, he honestly should have seen the whole  _ massage thing  _ coming. He pulled her to an upright sitting position and lifted her onto his lap. He stood, taking her weight completely on his arms for a moment before pressing her against his body, and carried her to their shared room where he tossed her onto the bed as she giggled with happiness.

 

He climbed on top of the bed and slowly crawled over to her. He reached for the bottom of her camisole and she helped him take it off before unclasping her bra and throwing it to the side of the bed. Jake placed his hand on her chest and softly pushed her back onto the mattress, then lifted her hips to take off her sweats and underwear to throw them where her shirt and bra were.

 

Jake paused for a moment to take in the picture of Amy pink, panting, and parted for him.

 

_ Oh my God. My wife is fucking beautiful _ .

 

Jake lunged.

 

Amy grabbed onto his waist for dear life.

 

His mouth didn’t kiss her, it devoured her. His hands when from her butt to her waist to her breast. One arm was holding up his weight so he could press his body against Amy’s without completely crushing her, and the other was rolling her nipple with his thumb.

 

_ Shit, we haven’t done this in almost two months.  _ Jake thought to himself.  _ No pressure, though. _

 

It took all of his willpower to stop kissing his wife, her mouth was so addicting. He moved his to her neck and began sucking a deep bruise into the spot just above her collarbone that drove her crazy. His mouth went lower and lower until his tongue was tracing circles around her areola. 

 

He skimmed his hands down her torso and flicked her clitoral hood at the same time he placed his teeth around her nipple and gently pulled. 

 

“Oh my God,  _ oh my God, _ ” Amy managed between gasps.

 

He alternated between biting, sucking, and licking her breasts as he played with her clit and ghosted his finger along her slick opening, waiting for her to open enough to allow his fingers.

 

Amy tightened her fingers around Jake’s waist and he took that as the cue that she was ready. He stilled his ministrations and slowly sunk in his index finger. The air was still and quiet and heavy. No one breathed in. No one breathed out. All the couple could hear was the sound of their own heartbeats pounding frantically in their ears.

 

Finally, Jake’s finger reached his limit and he moved his lips up to commence kisser her with a new fervor. After a few minutes, he pushed in a second finger and groaned at how eagerly her vagina opened to accommodate him. 

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he groaned into her mouth.

 

“Fuck,” Amy agreed. 

 

The sparks were getting hotter between them, their breathing coming a little faster. Reluctantly, Jake removed his fingers from Amy and move to unbutton his pants. Her hands came up to his pectorals and rubbed them a bit before whispering.

 

“Take off your shirt.”

 

She lowered her hands to reach the hem of his shirt and pulled up.

 

“No no no,” Jake started to say before Amy pulled his shirt off of him.

 

Amy stilled underneath him. Jake froze.

 

“Jake, oh my God.” Her voice was watery and her eyes were glued to Jake’s chest and abs, roaming between them and taking it all in.

 

All the scars.

 

The cuts, the burns, the patches in hair. 

 

Jake closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see himself through her eyes. He didn’t want to see the pity and shame and guilt.

 

“You’re so beautiful.”

 

The words made him open his eyes and look at his wife.

 

“But I understand if you want to keep your shirt on,” she added.

 

She still had his shirt in her hands and bunched it up to pull his arms and head through. Before she lowered it down his torso, though, she placed a soft kiss on a scar he had right at the center of his chest. Then she finished rolling down his shirt.

 

Jake couldn’t look at her anymore. His eyes were watering and he was rubbing his wrists to calm down.

 

“Hey, look at me,” Amy softly commanded.

 

Jake always listened to his wife.

 

“You’re beautiful,” she repeated.

 

Tears began streaming down his face and Amy began to kiss him. She gave him room to take the lead, and after a minute he did.

 

“You don’t have to take your pants off,” she reassured him. 

 

“I’m fine,” he whispered as he removed them.

 

Once his pants were gone, she reached for his hardness and stroked over the material of his briefs. Jake hissed through his teeth.

 

“Is this okay?” she asked him gently.

 

“Yeah, that’s really good.”

 

She continued stroking him as he kissed her and his fingers found the apex of her thighs again. To someone from the outside, they might have looked like a couple of high schoolers trying to get each other off, but to them it was everything.

 

“Are you ready?” Jake asked.

 

“God, yes.”

 

Jake slipped his cock out through the opening in his briefs and lined himself up with Amy. He wasn’t quite ready to remove all of his articles of clothing just yet. 

 

He slowly began pushing in and Amy’s thighs trembled around his hips. She felt soft and hot and wet and  _ deep _ . It was mind-blowingly good and half-maddeningly addicting at first touch.

 

“ _ Yes, please, faster, more _ ,” Amy chanted.

 

Once he reached the hilt, he slipped out again almost completely and pushed back in with more force.

 

“Yes! Harder,  _ please _ !” 

 

“Like this?” Jake asked her teasingly before slipping mostly out and slamming back into her.

 

“Fuck, yes. Like that!”

 

He opened his mouth around her shoulder and bit down none-too-gently while fucking her and he could hear her moaning openly. 

 

It went on heatedly for a while, but the spice in the air was gone. When Jake was his a particularly good spot, Amy would pull on his shirt reflexively and it would serve a painful reminder to them of what was underneath.

 

Things got pretty gentle after that.

 

Jake went from biting her shoulder to nibbling carefully on Amy’s lip. Amy went from moaning expletives to whispering  _ I love you _ every few moments. 

 

Neither of them lasted very long after that.

 

They didn’t come with a burning flame as they had originally anticipated but in a different, sweeter way. It had built up like a roasting fire that slowly warmed their hearts.

 

And if Jake had to shower on his own instead of with Amy like he had been doing for the past month…

 

Well, no one really questioned it anymore.

 

* * *

 

~ Tuesday, February 26, 2019 ~

 

“That sounds really shitty,” Azim deadpanned.

 

After much deliberation, Jake had opened up about the events of  _ that _ night with Amy. His first two sessions at Sunny Skies that day had been about communication, and that made it easier for him to share now that it was processing session.

 

“I think it sounds sweet,” Margot contradicted.

 

“Jake, how do you feel about it?” Duke asked.

 

“To be honest, I have mixed feelings about what happened. On the one hand, I feel like I shouldn’t be letting this affect me so much. We’re cops, dangerous situations are expected and I can’t help but think that I shouldn’t have frozen when Amy saw the effects of what happened to me. On the other hand, I’m kind of relieved she saw that, even if it sucked in the moment. It’s like the first time she’s really seen me since I got back, I’ve been hiding so much from her.”

 

“Does anyone have any support for Jake?”

 

Kevin raised his hand. Oh boy.

 

“Raymond and I used to have that problem. We still do sometimes. He’d come home after work and he’d be so upset. All I wanted was for him to tell me what was going on, but he thought that by not telling me he was strong, or sparing me. Maybe both. It was really frustrating for me to see him going through something and not choosing to share.”

 

“What did you do about it?” Jake asked.

 

“I sat him down one day and I told him that if he kept lying about being okay all the time, I wouldn’t talk to him anymore. He didn’t believe me. He still refused to talk about the things that got to him at work, so I stopped talking to him completely. After two weeks, he realized how difficult it is to have a partner that doesn’t share with you.

 

“Finally, one night, he sat me down. He told me about how he was dealing with bullying at his precinct. It wasn’t outright, it was subtle. He thought that he would be blowing it out of proportion by talking about it, and he didn’t want it to be real by giving voice to it. I finally talked to him and told him that his problems are my problems. It was hard to hear about all the stress the other cops but my husband through, but in the end, I was relieved to have my husband back. I still count it as a good night.”

 

Jake nodded along to the story. Was that how Amy felt on Saturday when Jake admitted he wanted to put his shirt back on? That because of his honesty, she finally had him back?

 

“Did you tried any grounding techniques when this was going on?” Duke asked.

 

Jake smiled to himself, remembering Lomeli’s words.

 

“Uh, not exactly. That kind of thing takes up all of my focus, and when I was, um,  _ active _ with Amy, I wanted my focus to be on her.”

 

Duke nodded in understanding.

 

“What about an energy bubble?”

 

“I don’t have any bubbles at home?” Jake answered.

 

It was a half-truth, Jake had finished blowing all the bubbles the week before and planned on adding more to the shopping list. 

 

A few people in the room smiled at Jake’s confusion, apparently all in the know about what Duke actually meant.

 

“An energy bubble isn’t physical. This might sound silly, but it’s actually imaginary. Can we do an exercise together right now to demonstrate?”

 

Jake was a bit uneasy, but he didn’t want to give Duke a hard time.

 

“Sure, why not,” he acquiesced. 

 

“Can you tell me one thing that gives you anxiety? Something you can visualize. It doesn’t have to be particularly big and scary.” 

 

Jake thought about that for a moment. Something he could visualize… oh! He knew exactly what.

 

“When I go to the hospital for my follow-ups, I get nervous. I remember why I was there in the first place and it makes me feel like I’m gonna end up injured and become a patient again.”

 

Jake was already rubbing his wrists self-soothingly at the thought of it.

 

“Perfect,” commended Duke. “Thank you for your honesty. If you’re okay with it, close your eyes and listen to my voice for a moment.”

 

Jake’s eyes darted around the room, reflexively assessing any threats before allowing his eyes to close.

 

“Great. I want you to start by envisioning a bubble around you that reaches about half the room. This could be a bubble with a plastic barrier, a rubber barrier, a gelatinous barrier, a balloon barrier, or a light barrier like the Aurora Borealis. The point is, there’s a barrier. There can even be a color inside of the bubble that surrounds you so you can easily see its limits better. Softer colors are better, like sky blue or lavender.

 

“Right now your barrier is open and inviting. Anything can leave and anything can enter it. This bubble is your shield, and right now it’s permeable. Now I want you to bring the bubble in more, closer to you. I want the bubble to be just a few inches or centimeters away from your body. Close and protecting. Whatever was your barrier before, I want you to picture it hardening. 

 

“Now whatever you want, any energy you give can leave it. But nothing can enter it. Now you’re safe from negative energy and harm. So now imagine yourself entering the hospital and your energy bubble is open. As you picture yourself walking inside, visualize that bubble closing in around you protectively and hardening to not allow anything you don’t want inside. Now open your eyes.”

 

Jake was so focused on Duke’s voice, that being told to open his eyes jolted him back to reality. As he opened his eyes, he remembered that he was in therapy with a dozen other people. He had felt like he was really on his own in the hospital with an energy bubble.

 

“How did that feel?” 

 

Jake considered the question for a moment, lips pursed to the side.

 

“It felt like I was really there. And I actually felt kind of safe.”

 

Duke’s face broke into a grin.

 

“That’s fantastic, I’m so glad. You’re so receptive to guided imagery. Now when you find yourself getting anxious at a particular situation or vibes, you can visualize your energy bubble.”

 

Jake could feel himself getting excited. This is what he was looking for--something to keep him calm for when he triggered himself in a few days to find out what really happened to him. This was it, the safety net he needed to get him through it. 

 

“Thank you, Duke,” he earnestly said.

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” the man replied.

 

This was perfect. Jake could feel some of his anxiety about that day floating away and leaving him lighter. In only a few days, he would know who was behind his kidnapping and the drug ring. Jake couldn’t wait to bring those people to justice and, finally, have some peace of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was my first time writing smut, I hope you guys liked it. Next chapter will be the final one. I will tell you right now that it will probably be a bit longer than the chapters I've written so far. It will be full of heart, pain, and tension (if I do my job right). BUT, as I said in the tags, it will have a happy ending. Thank you for reading up to this point!


	9. The Clay You Find (Is Fortified)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Early update! This is the last chapter, guys. It's a lot longer than the previous ones, but I didn't want to break it up into two chapters and make you guys wait another week for the conclusion. There's a mild depiction of violence in this chapter, so be warned. Other than that, I don't want to spoil too much. I hope you guys enjoy, this one will be an emotional journey.

In the end, the gang agreed to do the makeshift interview in Jake and Amy’s apartment. He would have to step so far out of his comfort zone, it would be nice for Jake to be surrounded by the comforts of his own home.

 

So, that’s how Terry found them: Jake and Amy on the couch, Rosa sitting on the coffee table in front of them. The sergeant let himself in, wishing he could change the circumstances of his visit. He lingered at the entrance of the living room, hovering between duty to the case and what he felt was what should be his duty to his friend.

 

“You know I gotta ask,” Terry began.

 

“Patricio died in the hospital last night. I’m officially the only one who can offer any leads at this point. I’m sure,” Jake responded resolutely.

 

Terry nodded and walked all the way into the living room. He chose to remain standing instead of sitting on the chair in the corner. He pulled out a notebook and pencil, which Rosa already had out. That was okay, they always had different points of view to make note of whenever they conducted interviews.

 

God, he was interviewing his friend. Yes, Terry didn’t want to go through with this because he was worried about Jake’s mental health. He had always been a risk-taker and Terry worried about Jake putting himself in unnecessary pain for the case. More than that, though, was Terry’s own selfishness. At least, what he himself perceived as being selfish.

 

The truth was, Terry didn’t want to hear the story beginning to end of Jake being kidnapped and tortured. Jake was his  _ friend _ , but also his employee. Terry couldn’t begin to unravel all the reasons why he felt that he should have been there to protect Jake. All he knew was that hearing that Jake was missing had nearly broken his heart, and seeing the condition he was in when he was found in the hospital completed the job of shattering it.

 

Now he was expected to take notes and be objective in what was probably the most personal case of his career. Terry Jeffords was a strong man. But he really didn’t want to go through with this.

 

Looking around the room he saw faces he loved and faces he had sworn to protect at one point in time or another. He knew, realistically, that he wouldn’t be able to protect them all the time. Jake was a testament to that fact. He had to rely on his faith that he had trained them all enough to make their own decisions and accept that they were adults who chose the paths that they had taken and would take in the future.

 

That’s what he had to do with Jake.

 

Terry sighed internally and finally decided to take that seat. He dragged it a bit closer to the group and sat down. His body almost didn’t fit inside of the comfortable armchair, but as always, he managed. 

 

“Okay then,” Terry acquiesced. “Let’s begin.”

 

* * *

 

Jake could tell Amy was forcing herself to give him space. Her hand kept twitching to reach out for his, then she would grab it with her other hand and firmly hold them against her lap. He guessed that she wanted to prove that she had faith he could do this.

 

After all, it wasn’t like anyone could help him through this mental journey. Sure, they could offer support and encouragement. Ultimately, however, it was only him who could reach into the darkened corners of his mind and bring them to the light. 

 

“Do you want to recap the information we have already?” Rosa asked in that monotone voice of hers. It was a comfort that she didn’t seem particularly worried. He decided that it was a good omen.

 

“Patricio Salvador wanted to snitch. Sorry,  _ inform _ .  But he slipped into a coma while he was recovering from a Vicodin overdose before we could get anything out of him. We believe he was probably poisoned by the food delivery he got. We relocated him under the new identity of Mario Rivera.

 

“Then Paulo comes to the station and he’s acting weird. We think he was being blackmailed by the distributors for the location so they could finish the hit on Pat. So we tailed him.

 

“We gave him false information to see what he would do. He showed up to the planted location, the Greyson apartments. You waited inside the apartment to see who shows up with Paulo, and I covered the entrance. Before anyone could go in. I apparently saw Paulo was arguing with a taxi driver, and from there no one heard from me.”

 

“Then you showed up at the hospital,” Amy supplied quietly.

 

The room fell uncomfortably silent. 

 

“I showed up at the hospital,” Jake agreed. “I was naked with only a blanket covering me. Covered in injuries. I could remember Amy,”

 

Amy offered a tight-lipped smile and her hand twitched again.

 

“I could remember what happened to me before I fell into the coma. Other than that, I was pretty out of it.”

 

“That’s really good, man,” Rosa commended. 

 

It was weird being complimented for what Jake thought was the basic minimum of what he could offer, but it felt nice to hear anyway. 

 

“Are you ready to get down dirty now?” she asked.

 

“It’s all I can dream about,” Jake half-joked in response. 

 

“Okay,” she began. “Lean back on the couch and open your eyes. Let’s go back to the moment when the paramedic asked you how you got your injuries. Do you remember what your mind did?”

 

In the darkness, Jake’s mind could easily flashback to the moment he was outside of the hospital’s emergency entrance with the nice man. 

 

“I started to have a flashback and panicked out of it.”

 

“Very good,” Rosa was full of compliments today. “Let’s connect that with what happened in the shower. Can you tell me about that?”

 

Jake didn’t need to look to know that Amy was tense. He hadn’t told her about that flashback yet, but he did tell Rosa as the lead on the case. Terry probably knew about it, too, because it was most likely in his file by that point.

 

“There were men in the room. Probably three, I couldn’t see them because they were behind me. There was only one guy in front of me. He wanted me to give up Patricio, but I wouldn’t. So he, uh, started waterboarding me while I was tied up to a chair. I passed out, or drowned, or whatever. When I came to, I was naked and still bound. I spent the night like that, I think.” 

 

Controlled breathing. That’s all Jake heard for a few seconds. 

 

“Good job,” Rosa finally broke the silence. Jake was relieved. It was getting too dark and quiet for his taste.

 

“Now I want you to imagine the paramedic asking you again how you got your injuries. This time, imagine you’re being waterboarded. Remember it as if you were there. Now add all those cuts and bruises to the memory. Try to remember. Were they there before or after they soaked you?”

 

“Before,” Jake answered instinctively. He remembered the cuts tightening with the freezing water and the bruises pounding like a heartbeat from the cold when he woke up without clothes. Huh, he hadn’t been able to access that information before. 

 

“This is where it’s gonna get tough, Jake,” Rosa’s voice softened. 

 

Shit, it wasn’t tough already?

 

“What material was the chair made of?”

 

“Steel.”

 

“And what were you tied with?”

 

“Rope. Around my torso, hands, and feet.” 

 

“You’re there right now.”

 

“What?” Jake asked. “No, I’m not, I’m here.”

 

Rosa’s voice softened, even more, to barely above a whisper.

 

“You’re sitting on the hard chair. It’s sticking to your legs because the water soaked through and you don’t have any pants to keep you protected.”

 

What was she doing?

 

“Taking a breath hurts because your lungs are sore from pushing out the water and fighting to expand.”

 

Jake could feel himself trembling, and he didn’t know if he was still in his living room or in back in the basement.

 

“The basement,” Jake whispered. He had forgotten he was in a basement. 

 

“You’re back in the basement,” Rosa reinforced. “There are no windows and the walls are closing in on you. It’s so cold because there’s no sun and you’re naked. All your cuts and bruises and burns are aching and you want more than anything to be home and safe and warm.”

 

“I can’t breathe,” Jake wheezed. 

 

“ _ Remember _ ,” she emphasized. “Remember how you got those injuries. Focus on the cuts first. Tell me now. How did that happen?

 

Rosa’s voice faded away. The plush cushioning of the sofa underneath him faded away. Jake was back in the basement. He was tied up and he was never, ever getting out.

 

* * *

 

_ His head rolled to the side. Damn, his neck was sore. He must have fallen asleep at his desk. He hadn’t done that in a long time. _

 

_ “Hey, I think the princess is waking from her beauty sleep,” someone with a thick New York accent crooned. Scattered chuckles greeted him.  _

 

_ Jake’s eyes shot open and his body straightened up. This wasn’t the precinct.  _

 

_ A man with a deeply tanned face and tattoo of a rose at the corner of his eye smirked down at him. _

 

_ “Good morning, princess.” _

 

_ Jake, for the first time in his life, remained silent.  _

 

_ “Aw, what’s wrong? Did the sea witch steal your voice?” _

 

_ Jake refused to answer. _

 

_ The man kicked Jake in the shin. _

 

_ “Hey, I’m talkin’ to you, you fucking corpse. What’s wrong? You need a kiss to bring you back to life, Snow White? I bet some of my guys here would love to kiss a pretty little thing like you.” _

 

_ A wolf whistle sounded just behind Jake’s ear and his skin broke out in nervous goosebumps. This time Jake couldn’t help but answer. _

 

_ “Dude, what is it with you and your Disney fetish? We all have our hobbies, but I think you might be a little obsessed, buddy.” _

 

_ The henchmen behind Jake hollered in laughter. Rose-face didn’t like that. _

 

_ Smack! _

 

_ Jake’s ears were ringing in shock. Did Rose really backhand him? Not that he was complaining, a backhand was by far better than a punch. _

 

_ “Shut the fuck up, wise guy.” _

 

_ At least Rose wasn’t calling him princess anymore. _

 

_ “Ah, and here I thought you were trying to get me to talk,” Jake sassed. _

 

_ Rose stuck Jake in the gut. Now there’s that punch he was waiting for. Jake coughed but managed to suppress the groan that was stuck in his throat. _

 

_ “How about you answer some questions for us, wise guy? Let’s make a deal,” Rose leaned down and got in his face. Admittedly, his breath smelled really nice. “You answer my questions, and I don’t kill you too slow. Don’t that sound nice?” _

 

_ “I feel like we have different definitions of ‘nice’.” _

 

_ Rose grabbed him by the hair and forced his head back to look him in the eyes. _

 

_ “Where is Patricio Salvador?” _

 

_ “New deal: how about you let me go and the DA will give you less time in prison because you cooperated.” _

 

_ Rose chuckled and released Jake’s locks. He looked at the men behind Jake and gestured toward Jake as if to say ‘can you believe this guy?’ He could hear one of them tsking.  _

 

_ “Jimmy, give me my toolbox.” _

 

_ Jake heard some movement behind him, then saw a flash of red hair cropped short framing a face with freckles smattered over only one cheek. That would make identifying him later much easier. Redhead handed Rose a large toolbox and smirked at Jake. That was not promising. _

 

_ Another lackey pulled up a small, foldable table for him to place the box on. This one Jake did recognize. Tommy the Tank. He was short but well-built and had two assault charges out on him. He used to be a bouncer at a nightclub before he was let go for being overly confident with the female customers, if he remembered carefully. Then Tommy, too, left Jake’s field of vision. _

 

_ Rose opened the toolbox and Jake dismayed. From his limited view, he could make out various pliers, knives, clippers, small hammers, and needles. And that was only what he could see.  _

 

_ Rose selected what Jake assumed was a hunting knife. He slowly walked back over in front of Jake. He grabbed the collar of Jake’s shirt and sliced all the buttons open, then the muscle shirt he had underneath. _

 

_ “Anything you’d like to tell me about our dear Patty before we begin?” _

 

_ Jake set his mouth into a firm line. _

 

_ Rose smiled. _

 

_ “Didn’t think so.” _

 

_ Rose placed the tip of his knife against the bottom of Jake’s collarbone and dug in. _

 

_ Amy had convinced Jake to get his eyebrows threaded once. Okay, okay, Jake chose to get his eyebrows threaded when Amy was out of town one weekend. It was slow and torturous work. He had sworn it felt like someone was slicing open his eyelids with a knife. _

 

_ This felt nothing, nothing like that. Jake clamped his jaw shut to avoid screaming, but his eyes were beginning to overflow with tears.  _

 

_ The word sharp couldn’t begin to explain the pain of being sliced from collarbone to collarbone. It was the only thing Jake could feel. His whole awareness was focused on that point on his body, and it was overwhelming. He felt his heart slamming into his chest and he tried to forcibly control his breathing.  _

 

_ This was barely the beginning, Jake could not allow himself to crack just yet. _

 

_ “Aw, that looks pretty bad, wise guy. Don’t worry, I’ll clean that up for you.” _

 

_ Rose grabbed a small bottle out of the box. The moment he opened the bottle, Jake’s nose was able to identify the smell. _

 

_ Oh, no. Oh, no no no no. _

 

_ Rose splashed the contents against Jake’s cut and alcohol burned his open wound. Jake felt like acid had been poured on him and the tears were falling freely from his eyes now. _

 

* * *

 

“Jake, snap out of it. Jake!” 

 

Amy was shaking him and Jake’s eyes flew open as he suddenly stood up, confused and disoriented. The other three rose to meet him. After scanning the room quickly, Jake realized that he was safe in his apartment.

 

He was also drenched in sweat and his eyes were swollen from crying. Everyone looked like they wanted to reach out to him.

 

No one did.

 

“Tommy the Tank was there. And another guy with a rose tattooed onto the corner of his eye. And there was this other guy with red hair and-”

 

“Jake, it’s okay,” Amy took a step toward him with her hands up placatingly.

 

“No, it’s not okay. Rosa, right this down. He had freckles only on one side of his face.”

 

“I got it, Jake. I got it. Don’t worry, you were doing great.”

 

“Then why did you pull me out?”

 

Jake was loathe to admit it, but he was starting to get a little angry. It was hard to get in the right headspace to jump back into flashbacks, and he wanted it to be over sooner rather than later.

 

“You got really worked up, we didn’t know if you were okay or not,” Terry explained.

 

Jake couldn’t argue that. His fingers were vibrating with anxiety and his stomach was in knots. He took a steadying breath.

 

“Look, I’m remembering some things that aren’t so great. But I can’t back out now. I’ll try to stay calm this time, but please don’t pull me out again.”

 

Jake went to take his seat back on the couch and everyone hesitatingly followed suit.

 

“If you get this worked up again, I’m gonna pull you out. Full stop. No more triggering. It can’t be good for you to flood yourself with so much anxiety. You’re my husband, I don’t want to see you hurting yourself like this. I hope you understand.”

 

Amy looked at him so earnestly and so full of genuine concern that he couldn’t imagine himself ever denying her any request.

 

“I understand,” he agreed. 

 

All that meant was that Jake couldn’t get so worked up again. No pressure.

 

“Alright, let’s do this one last time,” Rosa said.

 

“I think I can do it without your, uh,  _ guided imagery _ ,” Jake put it lightly. Rosa smirked and tilted her head in acceptance. “I got this.”

 

Jake resumed his position of leaning against the couch and closing his eyes. This time, however, he didn’t jump straight into his memories. 

 

_ Okay, Jake. There’s a bubble around you--no, wait--a force field. Yeah, force field sounds much cooler. It’s light blue and it’s keeping all of your energy inside. The field is hardening and no one can come in and my energy can’t come out. It’s closing in tighter around me so my energy doesn’t spill out. No harm can come inside the force field. No pain can come inside the force field. No bad energy can come inside this force field. I am safe.  _

 

Jake didn’t picture himself sitting in the old, steel chair again. Instead, he focused on the smells and sounds of the basement. The moist, molded smell of the walls. The air was humid and dusty and dark. He could hear a  _ drip, drip _ coming from a pipe he couldn’t see and heard the groaning floorboards from the floor above him.

 

In a flash, Jake was in the basement again. But this time he was only an apparition in the room, looking on from the perspective of a ghost as the events unfolded in front of him.

 

Damn, he looked like shit. 

 

At this point, he had more cuts along his front. He also had bruises up and down his thighs from a small hammer he was beginning to remember. Two sets of two burns were on his abdomen from tasers, as well. Memory-Jake looked cold, naked, and so very, very tired. Shadowed bruises made his eyes swell and lack of food had hollowed out his cheeks. Over a week had already passed by that point.

 

“He’s not giving us anything,” Rose told a familiar looking man who had just stepped into the room. He was tall, looked to be biracial, and had a look of shock on his handsome features.

 

“Jesus Christ, what did you do to him?”

 

“What was I supposed to do? He wouldn’t tell me where Salvador is!”

 

“He’s a fucking cop, Sergio. It’s bad enough you kidnapped him, beating him up like this is gonna give us bigger problems than we can deal with.”

 

“It’s not like we’re gonna fucking keep him around, Ramone.”

 

“Like hell we’re not.”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don’t seriously plan on letting him go, do you?” 

 

“We can’t kill a cop.”

 

“And what are we gonna do when he identifies us and gets us all arrested?”

 

“He won’t. I’ll make sure of that.”

 

“I’m not letting you do this.”

 

“I’m the boss. You don’t need to let me do anything.”

 

“Fuck you, you fucking asshole.”

 

“Shut your goddamn mouth and get me a syringe,” he commanded as he pulled a vial out of his jeans.

 

Memory Jake’s dull eyes seemed to come alive at that. 

 

“No, no. Get that needle away from me,” he slurred.

 

Force Field Jake scrunched up his face in sympathy. He knew what came next. Memory Jake wouldn’t be able to escape the needle. Mostly. 

 

With practiced hands, the man grabbed Jake’s left hand and inserted the needle into one of his veins. Before the syringe emptied, however, Jake managed to flip his hand over, jostling the syringe. It fell out of the familiar man’s hand and shattered on the ground with a little bit of liquid left.

 

“You stupid son of a bitch!” Sergio-Formerly-Known-As-Rose yelled and punched Jake in the nose, causing blood to trickle down Jake’s face. Memory-Jake hardly reacted. In fact, Memory-Jake was hardly paying attention to anything at all. 

 

“Don’t worry, Sergio. He got enough Blebb. It should work fine.”

 

Force-field Jake didn’t miss the look of doubt on either Sergio’s face.

 

“Grab that blanket on the pull-out. We’re leaving him outside the hospital.”

 

“This is a stupid idea, Ramone.”

 

“I didn’t hire you to have opinions.”

 

The familiar man grabbed a knife and cut the bonds on Jake’s wrists first, which Memory-Jake immediately started rubbing. Soon, however, Memory-Jake was beginning to lose consciousness and the vision was fading from Force Field Jake’s mind. He opened his eyes, safe and intact, in the living room again with the face of the familiar man strong in his mind.

 

“Jake, did you get any answers?” Rosa asked.

 

Jake nodded solemnly.

 

“I know who kidnapped me and who the leader of the drug ring is.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The man you kidnapped me is named Sergio. I can give you a better description later. And the man who’s the head of the whole operation…”

 

He paused. He still couldn’t believe.

 

“Ramone Lomeli.”

 

* * *

 

Rosa and Terry went straight for the hospital. Jake and Amy took his motorcycle to the precinct to find out if there was a Sergio in the database for drug criminals in association with Tommy the Tank and found him. Sergio de la Cruz, a mechanic who worked three blocks from the hospital. Jake and Amy were on their way to grab a squad car when they ran into Holt.

 

“Captain!” Amy called out. “We found out who kidnapped Jake.”

 

Holt froze. A mixture of relief, shock, and happiness crossed his features.

 

“I’m coming with you two,” he declared. But the gang had taken no more than a couple steps before Charles came rushing in.

 

“Captain! Amy! We got a break in the case,” he panted. Jake beamed.

 

“I know, we just told Holt about it.”

 

Charles looked confused.

 

“That’s impossible, Kevin just told me about the hair follicles right now.”

 

“Kevin?” Holt and Amy said in unison. 

 

_ Oh my God _ , Jake thought.  _ Holt and Amy are working Kevin’s case together.  _

 

The three of them looked at Jake with pain and regret.

 

“Jake-” Amy began apologetically.

 

“It’s okay. You two go. I’ll take Charles and we’ll head over to body shop and take down Sergio together. You okay with that, Charles?”

 

Charles was positively over the moon.

 

“Are you kidding? Jake and Charles, best friends and best cop duo in the history of the precinct? We’re literally the best team up--no offense, Amy--that has ever come out of the Nine-Nine. I can’t wait to take down this bastard with you.”

 

“Cool cool cool cool, let’s ignore all of your usual, passionate subtext and go straight for de la Cruz.”

 

“You got it!” 

 

Ten minutes later, the duo was pulling up to the body shop with backup on the way. They stepped out of the car and walked toward the inside of the garage.

 

“That’s him,” Jake pointed out.

 

“I’ll ask him some questions and you wait at the entrance for when he inevitably makes a run for it,” Charles suggested.

 

“Good plan.”

 

It was a short minute and happened exactly the way that Charles had predicted. Charles approached Sergio. When Charles told him to turn around, Sergio made a break for it and Jake met him with his gun pointed and the drug dealer kneeled to the ground and allowed himself to be arrested.

 

Though there was a certain predictability in it, Jake’s blood still rushed like a current in his ears. Sergio gave him such a dirty look that, for a moment, Jake felt as immobilized as he was when he was tied up.

 

But then he remembered that  _ Jake _ was the one in charge and  _ Sergio _ was the one in handcuffs. And more than that, he wasn’t alone anymore. He had Charles, and Rosa and Amy were working behind the scenes to get Lomeli.

 

Lomeli. Now there was a can of worms Jake wasn’t ready to open yet. 

 

The drive back to the precinct was silent. Usually Charles and Jake would be busting jokes left and right (probably at the expense of the newly arrested fellow in the back), but the air was a bit thick with the magnitude of the events that were happening. They were closing one of the most significant cases of their career. When they got back to the station, it was a relief. They handed off Sergio and went to meet the rest of the gang.

 

“I hate to be the one to say this,” Gina said, sounding not at all regretful, “but Lomeli is one fine-ass drug dealer. I bet he’s the kind of guy that’s gonna get the civvies all worked up during his hearing and get like a thousand love letters in jail mail.”

 

“You said it,” agreed the Captain, which earned him a few raised eyebrows. “I’m a married officer, not a blind officer.”

 

“True dat,  _ mon capitan _ ,” Gina agreed.

 

“How did it go with Sergio?” Amy asked, signaling a mood change.

 

“About as well as expected. He’s in custody now. Where did Rosa go?”

 

“To collect Tommy the Tank and his redhead friend, Quentin. They’re on their way back.”

 

“Good. And Lomeli?”

 

Amy’s eyes became a bit more alert and everyone else turned to look at him, assessing how Jake was handling that turn of events.

 

“He’s in custody, too.”

 

“Cap, is it alright if I go ask him a few questions?”

 

“I suppose that would be acceptable. Leave the interview for Rosa, though.”

 

“Copy.” 

 

Jake reached the interrogation room and spent a moment looking through the one-way mirror. Lomeli looked dejected, but there was acceptance in his eyes. It was almost as if he was expecting that, eventually, he would be caught. The thought of that filled Jake with an ache he couldn’t quite explain. He summoned up his remaining mental energy and entered the room.

 

Lomeli glanced up and didn’t seem surprised to fight Jake in the room.

 

“Peralta,” he greeted as if it were a regular meeting in a bar.

 

“Lomeli,” Jake greeted right back. 

 

Jake took a seat.

 

“I have some questions for you.”

 

“I managed to figure that out on my own,” Lomeli snarked easily. 

 

Even that was too familiar to Jake, who was used to going wit-for-wit with his former nurse.

 

“Why did you do it?” Jake’s voice sounded incredulous, even to himself.

 

“I told you about my drug habit. Eventually, I needed more money to fund it and I ended up getting mixed up in the business. I’m still five years clean, by the way. The life just has a way of sucking you in a way that makes it impossible to get out. At first, I was threatened to use my connections to the hospital, but then-”

 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Jake dismissed. “I mean, thanks for the information and all, but that’s more of something you’d tell Detective Diaz in a few minutes. I meant, why did you let me go?”

 

Lomeli almost imperceptibly froze for half a second before melting back into his suave  _ I couldn’t be bothered to care _ attitude. 

 

“I don’t kill cops. Or anyone, for that matter.”

 

“And that’s it?” Jake asked incredulously.

 

“Look, man. I never wanted anyone to get hurt. That’s not what all this is about for me. And when I saw what they had done to you…”

 

For a moment, a look of regret flashed in Lomeli’s eyes. But that look was gone in a moment and back to looking distant.

 

“And when you helped me after I got out of the hospital? In the bar? Was that just you feeling guilty?”

 

Lomeli offered Jake a sardonic looking smile.

 

“That was me making a friend. But that clearly didn’t work out.”

 

“Clearly,” Jake agreed.

 

But he couldn’t help the sorrow that was stuck in Jake’s throat. If it weren’t for the man in front of him, he wouldn’t have sought the help he needed. And that help was what ultimately was the man’s doom. There were so many conflicting emotions Jake was going through, he was gonna need to process them further in therapy.

 

“Listen, I’ll talk to Rosa about the DA. Maybe we can get you a reduced sentence.”

 

“Maybe,” Lomeli agreed half-heartedly. “Maybe not.”

 

Jake stood up to leave, but before he hit the door he was interrupted. 

 

“Peralta.”

 

Jake didn’t turn around.

 

“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

 

Jake rubbed at his wrist absentmindedly.

 

“Yeah,” he responded. “Okay.”

 

Jake left.

 

* * *

 

The gang was at the bar celebrating their huge bust. There was drinking, laughter, and bragging. Jake was watching Holt try to drink from his cup without touching his lips to the brim.

 

“It’s because I saw a fingerprint that wasn’t mine,” he slurred. “It wasn’t my fingerprint! Someone else drank from my cup!”

 

“Cap, it’s impossible to be able to identify fingerprints by sight alone.”

 

“Nonsense, Peralta. I have the senses of a jungle cat. I know my fingerprint when I see it and that wasn’t it.”

 

“I don’t think jungle cats can identify fingerprints either, but let’s move on from that. How did Kevin break his own case?”

 

Holt smiled widely, clearly proud of his husband.

 

“Kevin was looking at pictures of the Ken Dolls and noticed that the way the camera lights hit the dolls’ hair made the hair look too natural. He suspected that his stalker has pulled his own hair out and attached it to the dolls’ head. He called it in, Charles answered, and we matched the DNA in the database with a man who had a restraining order for stalking. Kevin is so smart.”

 

Jake grinned at his boss. Drunk Holt was the best.

 

“Hey, Jake,” he heard behind him. He turned around to see his beautiful wife.

 

“Hey, Ames.”

 

“Can I talk to you outside for a second?” 

 

The air was cold with the remnants of February. Jake appreciated the fresh air after the smell of alcohol and had gotten stuck in his nose in the stuffy room. He was more awake now, more alert.

 

“I think what you did was really brave,” she began. He was sensing a  _ but _ . “You were able to step up big-time when no one else could get ahead in the case you faced a lot of fears.

 

“But,” she said. There it was. “There are some things you’re still struggling with. Secrets you’ve been keeping.”

 

Jake felt a twinge of guilt. He had been keeping a lot from Amy, and he knew that it had been affecting her.

 

“I’m not saying you need to tell me everything, you need your space and I get that. I’m just asking you to please stop lying and telling me you’re fine when you’re not. I’m your wife, I want to be there for you if you let me.”

 

Jake looked at his wife, who was hugging herself to keep warm. Amy hated the cold, and yet here she was, incredibly uncomfortable for the sake of talking to her husband as soon as she had the chance. It was little details like that that magnified his love for her. Jake put his hands on her arms and started rubbing them to give her a bit more warmth.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve been keeping things from you. I don’t know why I did. I guess I felt like telling you what was really going on would make you see how weak I was and worry about me.”

 

“Jake, you’re not weak,” she contradicted emphatically.

 

“I know,” Jake accepted. “But it felt like all the things I had gone through had taken something from me, and telling you about it would reveal that I’m not the same person as before. Because I don’t feel like the same person. I think I was just waiting for it back, but I’d rather be waiting with you instead of without you.”

 

“Babe, you don’t need to wait for anything. At least not for my sake. If there’s any change you’ve gone through, it’s finding a new strength you never knew you had. You’ve gone through the fire and you’re fortified now. I think if you keep waiting for your feelings to change or for what happened to you to disappear, you’re gonna be hiding for a long time.”

 

Jake hugged Amy close to him and began rubbing her bag. That precious woman you was so wise and so full of love. He never wanted to let her go.

 

“I know. Once I finally stopped running from my memories, I learned that. Embracing all of who I am--the strong, the broken, the damaged--I think that makes me a better person. It’s at least a lot easier to live with myself than when I was pretending to be okay.”

 

“I’m not asking you to be strong every moment of the day, you know. I’m just asking you to, I don’t know-”

 

“Be gentle with myself?”

 

Amy smiled up at Jake and kissed him chastely on the bottom of his chin.

 

“Yeah, be gentle with yourself. And don’t hate me if I’m gentle with you, too.”

 

“I could never hate you, Ames.”

 

“I know,” she smiled coyly at him.

 

“Are you ready to go back inside and record Holt absolutely losing his mind when I tell him I was the one who drank from his glass?”

 

“Oh my God, I am so ready.”

 

“Let’s do it, babe.”

 

The couple went back inside, leaving behind their conversation for a moment, but not leaving behind the important message that came with it. Jake was not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the list of chapter titles and the songs that correlate with them:
> 
> 1) Wake Me Up (When It's All Over) ~ Wake Me Up - Avicii
> 
> 2) Oh, Take Me Back (To The Start) ~ The Scientist - Coldplay
> 
> 3) (I Love) The Way You Lie ~ Love The Way You Lie - Eminem
> 
> 4) (Nobody Said) It Was Easy ~ The Scientist - Coldplay (Again)
> 
> 5) I Will Try (To Fix You) ~ Fix You - Coldplay
> 
> 6) There Will Be An Answer (Let it Be) ~ Let it Be - The Beatles
> 
> 7) Always Something There (To Remind Me) ~ Always Something There To Remind Me - Naked Eyes
> 
> 8) Just Too Close (To Love You) ~ Too Close - Alex Clare
> 
> 9) The Clay You Find (Is Fortified) ~ Mary - Big Thief
> 
> Fic Title - I'm Waiting With (Or Without) You ~ With or Without You - U2
> 
> Thank you for reading my fic, I hope you've all enjoyed it! Please leave comments <3


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